Joy-giving Playhouse! best delight in town,
Thy merit’s fled, and any stuff goes down.
’Midst thy bays the pruning knife is seen,
And critic fury tears away the green;
Monopoly now grasps the whole domain,
And authors, actors, starve, nor dare complain.
No wit or humour marks the lively play,
But puns and quibbles make their saucy way;
Along thy tragedies, a sleepy guest,
Dull Declamation snores herself to rest.