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you got and
Of praise a mere glutton, he swallow'd what came,
[you gave! What a commerce was yours,
while How did Grub-street reecho the shouts that
[praised! While he was be-Roscius'd, and you were beBut
peace to his spirit, wherever it flies, To act as an angel and mix with the skies: Those poets, who owe their best fame to his skill, Shall still be his flatterers, go where he will: Old Shakspeare receive him with praise and with
love, And Beaumonts and Bens be his Kellys above. Here Hickey reclines, a most blunt pleasant
creature, And slander itself must allow him good nature; He cherish'd his friend, and he relish'd a bumper; Yet one fault he had, and that one was a thumper. Perhaps you may ask if the man was a miser? I answer, no, no, for he always was wiser: Too courteous, perhaps, or obligingly flat? His very worst foe can't accuse him of that: Perhąps he confided in men as they go, And so was too foolishly honest? Ah no! [ye,Then what was his failing? come, tell it, and burn He was, could he help it? a special attorney.
17 Hagh Kelly, author of False Delicacy, Word to the Wise, Clementina, School for Wives, &c. &c.
18 Mr. W. Woodfall, printer of the Morning Chronicle.
Here Reynolds is laid, and to tell you my mind, He has not left a wiser or better behind : His pencil was striking, resistless, and grand; His manners were gentle, complying, and bland; Still born to improve us in every part, His pencil our faces, his manners our heart: To coxcombs averse, yet most civilly steering, When they judged without skill he was still hard
of hearing; When they talk'd of their Raphaels, Corregio's,
and stuff, He shifted his trumpet', and only took snuff.
[After the fourth edition of this poem was printed, the puhlisher received the following epitaph on Mr. Whitefoord', from a friend of the late Dr. Goldsmith.]
Here Whitefoord reclines, and deny it who can,
19 Sir Joshua Reynolds was so remarkably deaf as to be under the necessity of using an ear-trumpet in company.
Mr. Caleb Whitefoord, author of many humorous Essays. ? Mr. W. was so notorious a punster, that Dr. Goldsmith used to say it was impossible to keep him company, without being infected with the itch of punning.
What pity, alas! that so liberal a mind
Yenewspaper witlings! ye pert scribbling folks!
festoons of the vine, And copious libations bestow on his shrine; Then strew all around it (you can do no less) Cross-readings, ship-news, and mistakes of the
press 4. Merry Whitefoord, farewell! forthy sake I admit That a Scot may have humour, I had almost said This debt to thy memory I cannot refuse, [wit: • Thou best humour'd man with the worst humour'd
To this Postscript the Reader may not be displeased to find
added the following POETICAL EPISTLÉ TO DR. GOLDSMITH.
OR, Supplement to his Retaliation. FROM THE GENTLEMAN'S MAGAZINE FOR AUGUST, 1778. DOCTOR, according to our wishes, You've character'd us all in dishes; Served up a sentimental treat Of various emblematic meat:
3 Mr. H. S. Woodfall, printer of the Public Advertiser.
* Mr. Wbitefoord has frequently indulged the town with humorous pieces under those titles in the Public Advertiser.
And now it's time, I trust, you'll think
feast. Ring, then, and see that there is placed To each according to his taste.
To Douglas, fraught with learned stock
To Johnson, philosophic sage,
Now fill the glass with gay champagne,
Pour forth to Reynolds, without stint, Rich Burgundy, of ruby tint; If e'er his colours chance to fade, This brilliant hue shall come in aid, With ruddy lights refresh the faces, And warm the bosoms of the Graces !
To Burke a pure libation bring, Fresh drawn from clear Castalian spring; With civic oak the goblet bind, Fit emblem of his patriot mind; Let Clio at his table sip, And Hermes hand it to his lip.
Fill out my friend, the dean of Derry,
Give Ridge and Hickey, generous souls !
him with the vines of Ferney!
THE DOUBLE TRANSFORMATION.
5 Dr. Barnard.