Sooth’d Otway’s discontented shade?
She—to no single soil confin’d,
Sought in our climes extended fame;
The wreaths of either world entwin’d,
And taught both continents her name.
Nor, of those strains that crowds have hail’d,
Small is the praise, or light the gain;
Clio can boast such sounds prevail’d,
When faith and freedom pray’d in vain.
Such notes the Mantuan minstrel owns