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How did Grub-street reecho the shouts that you
raised, While he was be-Roscius'd and you were be-praised! But peace to his spirit, wherever it flies, To act as an angel and mix with the skies: Those poets, who owe their best fame to his skill, Shall still be his flatterers, go where he will: Old Shakspeare receive him with praise and with
love, And Beaumonts and Bens be his Kellys above. Here Hickey reclines, a 'most blunt pleasant
creature, And slander itself must allow him good nature; He cherish'd his friend, and he relish'd a bumper; Yet one fault he had, and that one was a thumper. Perhaps yon may ask if the man was a miser? I answer, no, no, for he always was wiser: Too courteous, perhaps, or obligingly flat? His very worst foe can't accuse him of that: Perhaps he confided in men as they go, And so was too foolishly honest? Ah no! Then what was his failing? come, tell it, and burn
ye,He was, could he help it? a special attorney.
Here Reynolds is laid, and to tell you my mind, He has not left a wiser or better behind: His pencil was striking, resistless, and grand ; His manners were gentle, complying, and bland; Still born to improve us in every part, His pencil our faces, his manners our heart:
To coxcombs averse, yet more civilly steering, When they judged without skill he was still hard of
hearing; When they talk'd of their Raphaels, Coreggios, and
stuff, He shifted his trumpet 19, and only took spuff.
19 Sir Joshua Reynolds was so remarkably deaf as to be under the necessity of using an ear-trumpet in company.
After the fourth edition of this poem was printed, the publisher
received the following epitaph on Mr. Whitefoord I, from a friend of the late Dr. Goldsmith.
HERE Whitefoord reclines, and deny it wbo can,
i Mr. Caleb Whitefoord, author of many humorous essays.
2 Mr. W. was so notorious a punster, that Dr. Goldsmith used to say it was impossible to keep him company, without being Infected with the itch of punning.
A Scotchman, from pride and from prejudice free;
Ye newspaper witlings! ye pert scribbling folks!
Merry Whitefoord, farewell! for thy sake I admit Thata Scot may have humour, I had almost said wit: This debt to thy memory I cannot refuse, “ Thou best humourd man with the worst hu
3 Mr, H. S. Woodfall, printer of the Pablic Advertiser.
4 Mr. Whitefoord has frequently indulged the town with hamorous pieces under those titles in the Public Advertiser,
To this Postscript the Reader may not be displeased to find
added the following
POETICAL EPISTLETO DR. GOLDSMITH;
OR, Supplement to his Retaliation. FROM THE GENTLEMAN'S MAGAZINE FOR AUGUST,
Doctor, according to our wishes,
To Douglas, fraught with learned stock
Religion's friend, with soul sincere,
Now fill the glass with gay Champagne,
Pour forth to Reynolds, without stint, Rich Burgundy, of ruby tint; If e'er his colours chance to fade, This brilliant hue shall come in aid, With ruddy lights refresh the faces, And warm the bosoms of the Graces!
To Burke, a pure libation bring, Fresh drawn from clear Castalian spring; With civic oak the goblet bind, Fit emblem of his patriot mind; Let Clio at bis table sip, And Hermes hand it to his lip.
Fill out, my friend, the deans of Derry, A bumper of conventual sherry!
Give Ridge and Hickey, generous souls ! Of whisky punch convivial bowls; But let the kindred Burkes regale With potent draughts of Wicklow ale ; To C*****k next in order to turn ye, And grace bim with the vines of Ferney!
5 Dr. Bernard.