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Would you ask for his merits? alas! he had none;
What was good was spontaneous, his faults were his own.
Here lies honest Richard, whose fate I must sigh at;
Alas, that such frolic should now be so quiet!
What spirits were his! what wit and what whim!
But, missing his mirth and agreeable vein,
Here Cumberlandt lies, having acted his parts,
The Terence of England, the mender of hearts;
* Mr. Richard Burke; vide page 73. This gentleman having slightly fractured one of his arms and legs, at dif. ferent times, the Doctor has rallied him on those accidents, as a kind of retributive justice for breaking his jests upon other people.
† Vide page 74.
A flattering painter, who made it his care
And Comedy wonders at being so fine:
Like a tragedy queen he has dizen'd her out,
His fools have their follies so lost in a crowd
Of virtues and feelings, that Folly grows proud;
And coxcombs alike in their failings alone,
Adopting his portraits, are pleas'd with their own
Say, where has our poet this malady caught?
To find out men's virtues, and finding them few,
Quite sick of pursuing each troublesome elf,
Here Douglas* retires from his toils to relax, The scourge of impostors, the terror of quacks:
* Vide page 74.
Come, all ye quack bards, and ye quacking divines, Come, and dance on the spot where your tyrant reclines:
When satire and censure encircled his throne,
I fear'd for your safety, I fear'd for my own;
But now he is gone, and we want a detector,
Our Dodds* shall be pious, our Kenrickst shall lecture;
No countrymen living their tricks to discover;
Detection her taper shall quench to a spark,
And Scotsman meet Scotsman, and cheat in the dark.
* The Rev. Dr. Dodd.
† Dr. Kenrick, who read lectures at the Devil Tavern, under the title of “ The School of Shakespeare.”
# James Macpherson, Esq. who lately, from the mere force of his style, wrote down the first poet of all antiquity.
|| Vide page 76. ** Vide page 74.
Here lies David Garrick,* describe him who can,
An abridgment of all that was pleasant in man;
As an actor, confest without rival to shine;
As a wit, if not first, in the very first line:
'Twas only that, when he was off, he was acting.
With no reason on earth to go out of his way,
He turn'd and he vary'd full ten times a day:
Though secure of our hearts, yet confoundedly sick If they were not his own by finessing and trick:
He cast off his friends, as a huntsman his pack,
Forheknew when hepleas'd he could whistlethem back.
Of praise a mere glutton, he swallow'd what came,
And the puff of a dunce, he mistook it for fame;
* Vide page 74
Till his relish grown callous, almost to disease,
If dunces applauded, he paid them in kind.
Ye Kenricks,* ye Kellys, and Woodfallst so grave, What a commerce was yours, while you got and you
How did Grub-street re-echo the shouts that you
While he was be-Roscius'd and you were beprais'd?
But peace to his spirit, wherever it flies,
Those poets who owe their best fame to his skill,
And Beaumonts and Bens be his Kellys above.
* Vide page 79.
† Mr. Hugh Kelly, author of False Delicacy, Word :o the Wise, Clementina, School for Wives, &c. &c.
| Mr. W. Woodfall, printer of the Morning Chronicle.