PROLOGUE
TO
THE PILGRIM.

REVIVED FOR OUR AUTHOR'S BENEFIT, ANNO 1700.

How wretched is the fate of those who write!

Brought muzzled to the stage, for fear they bite;

Where, like Tom Dove[63], they stand the common foe,

Lugged by the critic, baited by the beau.

Yet, worse, their brother poets damn the play,