# Oriental Scenes, Dramatic Sketches and Tales/Address for the opening of the Cawnpore Theatre

MISCELLANEOUS POEMS.
ADDRESS,
Spoken at the Opening of the Cawnpore Theatre,* October 20, 1829.
Where late a jungle spread its tangled dells,
And panthers lurked within the forest's cells;
Where still in troops the famished jackalls prowl,
And the wolf bays the moon with dismal howl;
Where mid barbaric pomp a Satrap bore
Tyrannic sway along the Ganges' shore,
And the adjacent city only rang
With the deep dhole, or harsher cymbal's clang,
And native crowds beheld with fierce delight
On the red plain the sanguinary fight
Of savage beasts, whose worse than brutal sport
Formed the amusement of an Eastern Court;
Mid reliques and remains of tall Kiosks,
Pagodas, minarets, and dome-crowned mosques;
Where towering palms and spreading banians rise,
A Doric structure meets the spell-bound eyes— Its fair proportions formed in every part
Just to the classic rules of Roman art,
And dedicated to those Nymphs divine,
The fairer sisters of the tuneful Nine—
Attendant on the Drama—a gay throng,
Who weave the mingled web of dance and song,
Where young Thalia laughs with mirthful eye,
And gorgeous Tragedy comes sweeping by.
 Say, what the magic charm that thus has changed
The wild, where erst the forest-monster ranged, To the gay Theatre, where wit's bright rays
Pour forth the sparklings of its diamond blaze,
And the rapt ear delighted lists again
The gifted poet's most ennobling strain,
And Satire lightly laughs at Folly's cause,
And Virtue wins the heart to Virtue's laws? 'Tis woman's smile!—She raised her potent wand,
And this fair structure rose at her command;
She blessed the wilderness, and each ravine
Transformed at once, became a brilliant scene:
And the lone exiles from a distant coast
No longer mourn for all that they have lost;
But pleased, and pleasing, to this arid sand
Have brought the treasures of their native land.
And never yet beneath the arch of heaven
To lovelier forms was man's obedience given,
Nor homage ever paid to eyes more bright,
Than those which grace our Theatre to-night.
 Oh! still vouchsafe the soft approving smile,
Still by your presence gild this honoured pile.
For when did radiant beauty ever own
A fairer realm, a more appropriate throne,
Than the arena where the Drama tries
"To catch the manners living as they rise?"
From each expressive glance the Actor draws
The gentle censure, or the sweet applause;
And as their various talents they unfold,
She cheers the timid or appals the bold:
Checks with a glance each free licentious speech,
And gives the lesson none save women teach—
Sanctions the good, directs the march of mind
To all that's great, and beauteous, and refined,
Displays the witchery of the soft, the chaste,
And shews examples of the purest taste.
We bend before you—grateful—for we know
How much to female patronage we owe,
And fearless—for to woman's generous breast
The modest suppliant never yet addrest
A prayer in vain——whatever our success,
The gentle smile of female loveliness,
Will soothe our failure, or our triumph bless
Yet to the Drama's sons be not alone
Your plausive glance, and soft indulgence shewn― But be the well-earned meed of laurel shed
On the aspirant's young and anxious head,
Who from a bold design, with taste correct,
Has reared this splended pile—the Architect.
Dreading no frown, no critic word severe,
He humbly waits for your approval—here.  Cawnpore, October 1829.