132

AN ELEGY

ON THE GLORY OF HER SEX, MRS. MARY BLAIZE.

Good people all, with one accord,
Lament for Madam Blaize,
Who never wanted a good word—
From those who spoke her praise.

The needy seldom pass'd her door,
And always found her kind;
She freely lent to all the poor,—
Who left a pledge behind.

She strove the neighborhood to please,
With manners wondrous winning;
And never follow'd wicked ways,-
Unless when she was sinning.

Mr. Croker * [These lines were first printed in "The Bee," 1759. observes, in a communication to the editor:-"The elegy on Madam Blaize, and the better part of that on the Death of a Mad Dog, are closely imitated from a well-known French string of absurdities called La Chanson du fameux la Galisse one of many versions of which you will find in the Ménagiana, vol. iii. p. 29. I shall select two or three stanzas as examples :

"Messieurs, vous plait-il d'ouir

L'air du fameux la Galisse,
Il pourra vous rejouir,-

Pourvu qu'il vous divertisse.

On dit que dans ses amours,
Il fut caressé des belles,
Qui le suivirent toujours,-
Tant qu'il marche devant elles.

Il fut par un triste sort,

Blessé d'une main cruelle;
On croit, puisqu'il est mort,-
Que la plaie était mortelle."]

At church, in silks and satins new,

With hoop of monstrous size;
She never slumbered in her
But when she shut her

pew,―

eyes.

Her love was sought, I do aver

By twenty beaux and more;
The king himself has followed her,-
When she has walk'd before.

But now her wealth and finery fled,
Her hangers-on cut short all;

The doctors found, when she was dead,—
Her last disorder mortal.

Let us lament, in sorrow sore,

For Kent-street well may say,

That had she liv'd a twelvemonth more,—
She had not died to-day.

DESCRIPTION OF AN AUTHOR'S BED-CHAMBER.*

Where the Red Lion staring o'er the way,

Invites each passing stranger that can pay;

Where Calvert's butt, and Parson's black champagne,
Regale the drabs and bloods of Drury-lane;

* [First printed, in 1760, in "The Citizen of the World." See vol. ii. p. 127. On this subject Goldsmith had projected an heroi-comic poem, as appears by one of his letters to his brother (see Life, ch. viii.); and with a few variations it forms the description of the alehouse in the Deserted Village." See p. 73 of the present volume.]

There, in a lonely room, from bailiffs snug,
The Muse found Scroggen stretch'd beneath a rug;
A window, patch'd with paper, lent a ray,
That dimly show'd the state in which he lay;
The sanded floor that grits beneath the tread:
The humid wall with paltry pictures spread:
The royal Game of Goose was there in view,
And the Twelve Rules the royal martyr drew ;*
The Seasons, fram'd with listing, found a place,
And brave Prince William show'd his lampblack face.
The morn was cold, he views with keen desire

The rusty grate unconscious of a fire:

With beer and milk arrears the frieze was scor'd,†
And five crack'd tea-cups dress'd the chimney board;
A night-cap deck'd his brows instead of bay,

A cap by nighta stocking all the day!

* [Viz. 1. "Urge no healths; 2. Profane no divine ordinances; 3. Touch no state matters; 4. Reveal no secrets; 5. Pick no quarrels; 6. Make no comparisons; 7. Maintain no ill opinions; 8. Keep no bad company; 9. Encourage no vice; 10. Make no long meals; 11. Repeat no grievances; 12. Lay no wagers."]

+ ["And now imagine, after his soliloquy, the landlord to make his appearance, in order to dun him for the reckoning:

"Not with that face, so servile and so gay,
That welcomes every stranger that can pay,
With sulky eye he smoaked the patient man,
Then pulled his breeches tight, and thus began," &c.

All this is taken, you see, from nature. It is a good remark of Montaigne's, that the wisest men often have friends, with whom they do not care how much they play the fool. Take my present follies as instances of regard. Poetry is a much easier, and more agreeable species of composition than prose, and could a man live by it, it were not unpleasant employment to be a poet." -Letter to his Brother. See Life, ch. viii.]

SONG.*

O memory! thou fond deceiver,
Still importunate and vain,

To former joys recurring ever,
And turning all the past to pain:

Thou, like the world, the opprest oppressing,

Thy smiles increase the wretch's woe;
And he who wants each other blessing,
In thee must ever find a foe.†

SONG.I

The wretch condemn'd with life to part,
Still, still on Hope relies;

And every pang that rends the heart,
Bides expectation rise.§

[Also from the § [Originally

* [From the oratorio of the Captivity, written in 1764. See p. 94, in the present volume, and Life, ch. xiv.]

+ [In the original MS., in the possession of Mr. Murray:

"Hence, deceiver! most distressing,

Seek the happy and the free;
They who want each other blessing,
Ever want a friend in thee."]

oratorio of the Captivity. See p. 100.]

"Fatigued with life, yet loth to part,
On hope the wretch relies;

And every blow that sinks the heart
Bids the deluder rise.

Hope, like the taper's gleaming light,
Adorns the wretch's way," &c.]

In Mr. Murray's MS. the stanza runs thus:

Hope, like the glimmering taper's light,
Adorns and cheers the way;
And still, as darker grows the night,
Emits a brighter ray.

THE DOUBLE TRANSFORMATION.

A TALE.*

Secluded from domestic strife,
Jack Bookworm led a college life;
A fellowship at twenty-five

Made him the happiest man alive;
He drank his glass, and crack'd his joke,
And freshmen wonder'd as he spoke.†

Such pleasures, unalloy'd with care,
Could any accident impair?
Could Cupid's shaft at length transfix
Our swain, arrived at thirty-six ?

O had the Archer ne'er come down

To ravage in a country town!

Or Flavia been content to stop

At triumphs in a Fleet-street shop

[To the last moment of his breath,
On hope the wretch relies;

And e'en the pang preceding death
Bids expectation rise.

"Hope, like the gleaming taper's light,
Adorns and cheers our way, &c."]

[Printed in the volume of Essays which appeared in 1765.]

[Here followed, in the first edition:

"Without politeness, aim'd at breeding,
And laugh'd at pedantry and reading."]