THE HATTIE SHEPPARDE MEMORIAL FUND.

Evening Star, Issue 3693, 23 December 1874, Page 2

THE HATTIE SHEPPARDE MEMORIAL FUND.

We canno! cmgra u ate the Pre-a Dramatic Club i n eiiher .he selection of such a dreary pi. ee as “ i ost and Won ” and their manner of p ayin .' it. which was not worthy of the reputation they have already gained. If we except Mrs Walter Hill, who of course was faultless, Mr Bra zen, and Mr Utting, there was not a part even tolerably filled Of the aft.niece, “ ihe Dead Shot,” we can ape de more favorably. Mrs Hill’s Louisa i .ovetnek nee Is no conuu-ndatio i. Mr Mitchell reveled in the part of • imid. while Mi' Buchanan was a very respectable Capt. Cannon. Between the pieo-s Mr Brack;n r ( cited the fo’lowing addris’, written by hj m-elf. and it met with the decided approbation of the audience, which, th ugh numerous, was not so large as the object in view deserved : The plot is short—the play is “Life and Death The players must be ready at the calls ; Above a grave an angel holds a wreath— The exit wing is draped with gloomy palls— A smile, a tear, a word, a passing breath— The tableau is complete—the curtain falls ! This—tins, my friends, is why we’ve gathered here ; The cloud of Death has shadowed Life’s young day, For she whose mem’ry we to night revere • Assumed the heroine in this sad play Within the lifetime of this dying year— But in the summer scene she passed away. Within this temple of the Thespian Art— Upon this stage—her first bright bays were won; With light elastic step, and buoyant heart, A dark-haired gipsi, full of mirth and fun ; But greener l uirels fell unto her part, On other boards, beneath a wanner sun, I envy not the selfish fool who cries, “ Why raise a tablet o’er the senseless dead ? It will not call her spirit from the skies— It cannot wake her from her lonesome bed.” No, but ’twill tell our children where there lies A leaflet which the Tree of Genius shed. The Phantom Reaper wandered ’midst the bowers Of youth and hope—by God Himself designed— A full-blown rose fell ’mongst the withered flowers ; One tender little bud remained behind. Thalia’s tears came on Spring’s sunny showers, And dark Melpomene moaned on the wind. Proud Australasia, cluster of fair isles, And favored islets in Pacific set, For thee already deathless Fame compiles A roll of names thou canst not soon forget; Thy sun shall gild their tombs with golden smiles— Why were they called so soon to pay the debt? 'Tis vain to ask, and yet thou canst not spare The gifted children nurtured on thy breast. When Gordon fell, the Muse was iu despair ; The Drama wept) when Rodgers passed to rest; And now thy' stage is draped in sombre care, Since Hattie Shepparde joined the TROUPE of blest.