Part 109 (1/2)

Nor less the critic owns thy genial aid, While supperless he plies the piddling trade.

What though to love and soft delights a foe, By ladies hated, hated by the beau, Yet social freedom, long to courts unknown, Fair health, fair truth, and virtue are thy own.

Come to thy poet, come with healing wings, And let me taste thee unexcised by kings.

IMITATION OF SWIFT.

Ex fumo dare lucem.--HOR.

Boy! bring an ounce of Freeman's best, And bid the vicar be my guest: Let all be placed in manner due, A pot wherein to spit or spew, And London Journal, and Free-Briton, Of use to light a pipe or * *

This village, unmolested yet By troopers, shall be my retreat: Who cannot flatter, bribe, betray; Who cannot write or vote for * * *

Far from the vermin of the town, Here let me rather live, my own, Doze o'er a pipe, whose vapour bland In sweet oblivion lulls the land; Of all which at Vienna pa.s.ses, As ignorant as * * Bra.s.s is: And scorning rascals to caress, Extol the days of good Queen Bess, When first tobacco blessed our isle, Then think of other queens--and smile.

Come, jovial pipe, and bring along Midnight revelry and song; The merry catch, the madrigal, That echoes sweet in City Hall; The parson's pun, the s.m.u.tty tale Of country justice o'er his ale.

I ask not what the French are doing, Or Spain, to compa.s.s Britain's ruin: Britons, if undone, can go Where tobacco loves to grow.

WILLIAM OLDYS.

Oldys was born in 1696, and died in 1761. He was a very diligent collector of antiquarian materials, and the author of a Life of Raleigh.

He was intimate with Captain Grose, Burns' friend, who used to rally him on his inordinate thirst for ale, although, if we believe Burns, it was paralleled by Grose's liking for port. The following Anacreontic is characteristic:--

SONG, OCCASIONED BY A FLY DRINKING OUT OF A CUP OF ALE.

Busy, curious, thirsty fly, Drink with me, and drink as I; Freely welcome to my cup, Couldst thou sip and sip it up.

Make the most of life you may-- Life is short, and wears away.

Both alike are, mine and thine, Hastening quick to their decline: Thine's a summer, mine no more, Though repeated to threescore; Threescore summers, when they're gone, Will appear as short as one.

ROBERT LLOYD.

Robert Lloyd was born in London in 1733. He was the son of one of the under-masters of Westminster School. He went to Cambridge, where he became distinguished for his talents and notorious for his dissipation.

He became an usher under his father, but soon tired of the drudgery, and commenced professional author. He published a poem called 'The Actor,'

which attracted attention, and was the precursor of 'The Rosciad.' He wrote for periodicals, produced some theatrical pieces of no great merit, and edited the _St James' Magazine_. This failed, and Lloyd, involved in pecuniary distresses, was cast into the Fleet. Here he was deserted by all his boon companions except Churchill, to whose sister he was attached, and who allowed him a guinea a-week and a servant, besides promoting a subscription for his benefit. When the news of Churchill's death arrived, Lloyd was seated at dinner; he became instantly sick, cried out 'Poor Charles! I shall follow him soon,' and died in a few weeks. Churchill's sister, a woman of excellent abilities, waited on Lloyd during his illness, and died soon after him of a broken heart.

This was in 1764.

Lloyd was a minor Churchill. He had not his brawny force, but he had more than his liveliness of wit, and was a much better-conditioned man, and more temperate in his satire. Cowper knew, loved, admired, and in some of his verses imitated, Robert Lloyd.

THE MISERIES OF A POET'S LIFE.

The harlot Muse, so pa.s.sing gay, Bewitches only to betray.