His lovely daughter, lovelier in her tears,
The fond companion of his helpless years,
Silent went next, neglectful of her charms,
And left a lover's for her father's arms.
With louder plaints the mother spoke her wees,
And blest the cot where ev'ry pleasure rose,
And kiss'd her thoughtless babes with many a tear,
And clasp'd them close, in sorrow doubly dear!
Whilst her fond husband strove to lend relief
In all the silent manliness of grief.
Oh luxury thou curs'd by heav'n's decree,
How ill exchang'd are things like these for thee!
How do thy potions with insidious joy
Diffuse their pleasures, only to destroy!
Kingdoms by thee, to sickly greatness grown,
Boast of a florid vigour not their own.
At ev'ry draught more large and large they grow, A bloated mass of rank unwieldy woe,
Till sapp'd their strength, and every part unsound,
Down, down they sink and spread a ruin round!
Ev'n now the devastation is begun,
And half the business of destruction done;
Ev'n now, methinks, as pond'ring here I stand,
I see the rural virtues leave the land.
Down where yon anch ring vessel spreads the sail
That idly waiting flaps with every gale,
Downward they move, a melancholy band,
Pass from the shore, and darken all the strand.
Contented toil, and hospitable care,
And kind connubial tenderness, are there;
And piety with wishes plac'd above,
And steady loyalty, and faithful love.
And thou, sweet Poetry! thou lov❜liest maid,
Still first to fly where sensual joys invade;
Unfit in these degen'rate times of shame,
To catch the heart, or strike for honest fame;
Dear charming nymph neglected and decry'd,
My shame in crowds, my solitary pride.
Thou source of all my bliss and all my woe,
That found'st me poor at first, and keep'st me so;
Thou guide, by which the nobler arts excel!
Thou nurse of ev'ry virtue, fare thee well!
Farewel, and oh! where'er thy voice be try'd,
On Torno's cliffs, or Pambamarca's side,
Whether where equinoctial fervors glow,
Or winter wraps the polar world in snow,
Still let thy voice, prevailing over time,
Redress the rigors of th' inclement clime;
Aid slighted truth with thy persuasive strain,
Teach erring man to spurn the rage of gain!
Teach him, that states of native strength possest,
Though very poor, may still be very blest;
That trade's proud empire hastes to swift decay,
As ocean sweeps the labour'd mole away;
While self-dependent power can time defy,
As rocks resist the billows and the sky.
Or old, when Scarron his companions invited, Each guest brought his dish, and the feast was united. If our 2 landlord supplies us wih beef and with fish, Let each guest bring himself, and he brings the best dish:
Our Dean shall be ven'son, just fresh from the plains;
Our Burke shall be tongue, with the garnish of brains;
Our Will shall be wild fowl, of excellent flavour, And Dick with his pepper shall heighten their
First printed in 1774, after the author's death. Dr. Goldsmith, and some of his friends, occasionally dined at the St. James's Coffee-house. One day it was proposed to write epitaphs on him. His country dialect, and person, furnished subjects of witticism. He was called on for Retaliation; and, at their next meeting, produced the following poem.
The master of the St. James's Coffee-house, where the Doctor, and the friends he has characterized in this poem, occasionally dined.
Doctor Bernard, Dean of Derry in Ireland.
4 Mr. Edmund Burke.
Mr. William Burke, late Secretary to General Conway, and member for Bedwin.
• Mr. Richard Burke, collector of Grenada.
Cumberland's sweet - bread its place shall
obtain,
And Douglas is pudding, substantial and plain:
Our 3 Garrick's a sallad; for in him we see
Oil, vinegar, sugar, and saltness agree.
To make out the dinner, full certain I am,
That Ridge is anchovy, and 5 Reynolds is lamb:
That Hickey's a capon; and, by the same rule,
Magnanimous Goldsmith, a gooseberry fool.
At a dinner so various, at such a repast,
Who'd not be a glutton, and stick to the last!
Here, waiter, more wine; let me sit while i'm able,
Till all my companions sink under the table;
Then, with chaos and blunders encircling my head,
Let me ponder, and tell what I think of the dead.
Here lies the good 7 Dean, re-united to earth,
Who mixt reason with pleasure, and wisdom with
mirth;
Mr. Richard Cumberland, author of the West Indian, Fashionable Lover, The Brothers, and other dramatic pieces.
2 Doctor Douglas, Canon of Windsor, an ingenious Scotch gentleman, who has no less distinguished himself as a citizen of the world, than a sound critic, in detecting several literary mistakes (or rather forgeries) of his countrymen; particularly Lauder on Milton, and Bower's History of the Popes.
4 Counsellor John Ridge, a gentleman belonging to the Irish bar..
5 Sir Joshua Reynolds. • An eminent attorney. 7 Vide page 125.
If he had any faults, he has left us in doubt;
At least, in six weeks, I could not find 'em out;
Yet some have declared, and it can't be deny❜d'em,
That sly-boots was cursedly cunning to hide 'em.
Here lies our good Edmund, whose genius was
such,
We scarcely can praise it, or blame it too much;
Who, born for the universe, narrow'd his mind,
And to party gave up what was meant for mankind.
Tho' fraught with all learning, yet straining his
throat,
To persuade 2 Tommy Townshend to lend him a
Who, too deep for his hearers, still went on refining, And thought of convincing while they thought of
Tho' equal to all things, for all things unfit;
Too nice for a statesman, too proud for a wit:
For a patriot, too cool; for a drudge, disobedient;
And too fond of the right to pursue the expedient.
In short, 't was his fate, unemploy'd or in place, sir,
To eat mutton cold, and cut blocks with a razor.
Here lies honest 3 William, whose heart was a
mint,
While the owner ne'er knew half the good that was in't;
The pupil of impulse, it forc'd him along,
His conduct still right with his argument wrong:
2 Mr. T. Townsend, member for Whitchurch.
3 Vide page 125.
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