Relax his ponderous strength and lean to hear; | Its vistas strike, its palaces surprise; While, scourged by famine, from the smiling 250 Yes! let the rich deride, the proud disdain, Lightly they frolic o'er the vacant mind, But the long pomp, the midnight masquerade, Ye friends to truth, ye statesmen who survey His seat, where solitary sports are seen, 299 The mournful peasant leads his humble band; Where then, ah! where shall poverty reside, 310 If to the city sped-what waits him there? There, the black gibbet glooms beside the way. Here, richly decked, admits the gorgeous train; Where the poor houseless shivering female lies. With heavy heart deplores that luckless hour, While thus the land, adorned for pleasure, all When idly first, ambitious of the town, As some fair female, unadorned and plain, Nor shares with art the triumph of her eyes; When time advances, and when lovers fail, She left her wheel and robes of country brown. Do thy fair tribes participate her pain? go, Where wild Altama10 murmurs to their woe 9 artisan 10 The Altamaha, a river of Georgia. Fy different there from all that charmed be- At every draught more large and large they fore, The various terrors of that horrid shore; grow, A bloated mass of rank unwieldy woe; Those blazing suns that dart a downward ray, Till, sapped their strength, and every part un And fiercely shed intolerable day; 350 Those matted woods where birds forget to sing; Where the dark scorpion gathers death around; sound, Down, down they sink, and spread a ruin round. That idly waiting flaps with every gale, 400 And savage men more murderous still than Pass from the shore, and darken all the strand. they; While oft in whirls the mad tornado flies, That called them from their native walks away; A ad took a long farewell, and wished in vain For seats like these beyond the western mainAnd, shuddering still to face the distant deep, Beturned and wept, and still returned to weep. The good old sire the first prepared to go 371 409 Contented toil, and hospitable care, 420 Thou guide, by which the nobler arts excel, Though very poor, may still be very blest; That trade's proud empire hastes to swift decay, As ocean sweeps the laboured mole away; THE HAUNCH OF VENISON 430 A POETICAL EPISTLE TO LORD CLARE Thanks, my Lord, for your venison, for finer or fatter Never ranged in a forest, or smoked in a platter; 12 The Tornea, a river 13 A mountain peak in in Sweden, Ecuador. The haunch was a picture for painters to | An under-bred, fine-spoken fellow was he, study, And he smiled as he looked at the venison and me. "What have we got here?-Why this is good eating! Your own, 1 suppose—or is it in waiting?'' 46 "Why, whose should it be?" cried I with a flounce; "I get these things often'-but that was a bounce: "Some lords, my acquaintance, that settle the nation, Are pleased to be kind-but I hate ostentation.'' "If that be the case, then," cried he, very gay, But hold-let me pause-don't I hear you pro-"I'm glad I have taken this house in my way. nounce This tale of the bacon a damnable bounce?1 But, my Lord, it's no bounce: I protest in my To-morrow you take a poor dinner with me; My acquaintance is slight, or I'd ask my Lord 51 What say you-a pasty? It shall, and it must, And now that I think on 't, as I am a sinner! It's a truth-and your Lordship may ask Mr. We wanted this venison to make out the dinner. Byrne.2 To go on with my tale: as I gazed on the And my wife, little Kitty, is famous for crust. haunch, Here, porter! this venison with me to Mileend;5 I thought of a friend that was rusty and staunch; 21 So I cut it, and sent it to Reynolds3 undrest, To paint it or eat it, just as he liked best. Of the neck and the breast I had next to dispose; 'Twas a neck and a breast that might rival Monroe's: 4 But in parting with these I was puzzled again, With the how, and the who, and the where, and the when. No stirring-I beg-my dear friend-my dear friend!'' Thus, snatching his hat, he brushed off like the wind, And the porter and eatables followed behind. Left alone to reflect, having emptied my shelf, And nobody with me at sea but myself," 60 Though I could not help thinking my gentleman hasty, There's Howard, and Coley, and H-rth, and Yet Johnson, and Burke, and a good venison Hiff, pasty, I think they love venison, I know they love Were things that I never disliked in my life, beef. Though clogged with a coxcomb, and Kitty his wife. There's my countryman Higgins-oh! let him alone, "For I knew it," he cried: "both eternally There's a pasty."-"A pasty!" repeated the The one with his speeches, and t'other with "I don't care if I keep a corner for't too."? But no matter, I'll warrant we'll make up the With two full as clever and ten times as hearty. "Though splitting, I'll still keep a corner for that." The one writes the 'Snarler,' the other the With looks that quite petrified, entered the 'Scourge;' maid: to A visage so sad, and so pale with affright, Waked Priam in drawing his curtains by night.8 While thus he described them by trade and by name, They entered, and dinner was served as they came. 80 At the top a fried liver and bacon were seen; At the bottom was tripe, in a swingeing? tureen; 110 But we quickly found out-for who could mistake her? That she came with some terrible news from And so it fell out, for that negligent sloven At the sides there was spinach and pudding Sad Philomel thus-but let similes drop; made hot; In the middle a place where the pasty-was not. Now my lord, as for tripe, it's my utter aversion, And your bacon I hate like a Turk or a Per- So there I sat stuck, like a horse in a pound, tish rogue, And now that I think on't, the story may stop. To be plain, my good Lord, it's but labour misplaced To send such good verses to one of your taste; A relish, a taste-sickened over by learning;' own. 122 So, perhaps, in your habits of thinking amiss, With his long-winded speeches, his smiles, and You may make a mistake, and think slightly A prettier dinner I never set eyes on; Pray a slice of y..r liver, though may I be curst, But I've eat of your tripe till I'm ready to burst." "The tripe!" quoth the Jew, with his chocolate cheek; "I could dine on this tripe seven days in a week: I like these here dinners so pretty and small; But your friend there, the doctor, eats nothing at all." "Oho!" quoth my. friend, he'll come on in a trice; He's keeping a corner for something that's nice: 6 Mrs. Thrale, Dr. Johnson's friend. 7 immense 100 *These were signatures to contemporary letters addressed to the Public Advertiser in support of the government. of this. FROM RETALIATION* Of old, when Searron1 his companions invited, Each guest brought his dish, and the feast was united; 8 See 2 Henry IV., I, 9 See Hamlet, III., i. 1 A French burlesque poet. * Goldsmith, because of his vanity and frequently empty talk, was the occasion of much diversion among his friends, and sometimes a butt of ridicule. At a gathering at St. James's coffee-house, he desired to try with David Garrick, the actor, his skill at epigram, and each was to write the other's epitaph. Garrick immediately composed the well-known couplet: "Here lies Nolly Goldsmith, for shortness Who wrote like an angel, but talked like poor Goldsmith took his time to reply, and the If our landlord supplies us with beef and with To persuade Tommy Townshend3 to lend him fish, a vote; Let each guest bring himself—and he brings Who, too deep for his hearers, still went on the best dish. refining, Our Dean shall be venison, just fresh from And thought of convincing while they thought the plains; of dining: Our Burke shall be tongue, with the garnish of Though equal to all things, for all things unfit, brains; Our Will shall be wild-fowl of excellent flavour, savour; Our Cumberland's sweet-bread its place shall obtain, 11 And Douglas is pudding, substantial and plain; Till all my companions sink under the table; 20 Let me ponder, and tell what I think of the dead. Here lies the good Dean, reunited to earth, Who mixed reason with pleasure, and wisdom with mirth: If he had any faults, he has left us in doubt- That sly-boots was cursedly cunning to hide Here lies our good Edmund, whose genius was such, We scarcely can praise it, or blame it too much; 30 can Who, born for the universe, narrowed his mind. An abridgment of all that was pleasant in And to party gave up what was meant for mankind. man; Though fraught with all learning, yet strain-As an actor, confessed without rival to shine; ing his throat result was Retaliation, a poem which he left unfinished, and which was published after his death. The characters whom he imagines gathered about the table are Thomas Barnard, Dean of Derry: Edmund Burke, with William Burke, a kinsman, and Richard, a younger brother; Richard Cumberland, the dramatist; As a wit, if not first, in the very first line: The man had his failings, a dupe to his art. And beplastered with rouge his own natural red. 100 John Douglas, a Scotch canon: David Gar- On the stage he was natural, simple, &ffe&.ing; rick; John Ridge and Tom Hickey two Irish lawyers: Sir Joshua Reynolds, the painter: and himself. A kindlier satire-if satire it may be called-has scarcely been written. 2 A dish of crushed gooseberries. 3 An M. P., afterwards 4 A Roman comic v rer. 5 gay party |