‘Like the song of the lone nightingale,
Which answereth with her most soothing song
Out of the ivy bower, it came and blessed.’
And I may say with conscientious pride that however much any of the great actors may have done for their national stage, Mr. Forrest, equal to any of them, has done as much for the theatre of his country, and will remain a recognized peer in the everlasting group.
‘He stands serene amid the actors old,
Like Chimborazo when the setting sun
Has left his hundred mountains dark and dun,
Sole object visible, the imperial one
In purple robe and diadem of gold.
Immortal Forrest, who can hope to tell,