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With a sadness at heart, and an earWhy, then we and the Gods are equally nest hope grounded on his misanthropic blest,
sadness, when I first knew him in his And Olympus an Ale-house as good as
20th or 21st year, that a something the best !
existed in his bodily organism that in M. Post, Sep. 18, 1801.
the sight of the All-Merciful lessened his responsibility, and the moral imputation
of his acts and feelings.
ON A BAD MAN
DRINKING VERSUS THINKING OF him that in this gorgeous tomb doth lie
OR, A SONG AGAINST THE NEW
PHILOSOPHY This sad brief tale is all that Truth can give-
My Merry men all, that drink with glee He lived like one who never thought to This fanciful Philosophy,
Pray tell me what good is it? He died like one who dared not hope If antient Nick should come and take to live !
The same across the Stygian Lake, M. Post, Sep. 22, 1801.
I guess we ne'er should miss it.
Away, each pale, self-brooding spark 25
That goes truth-hunting in the dark, UNDER this stone does Walter Harcourt Away from our carousing ! lie,
To Pallas we resign such fowlsWho valued nought that God or man
Grave birds of wisdom ! ye're but owls, could give ;
And all your trade but mousing ! He lived as if he never thought to die;
My Merry men all, here's punch and He died as if he dared not hope to
wine, live !
And spicy bishop, drink divine ! [So reprinted by Mrs. H. N. Coleridge in Let's live while we are able. Essays on his own Times as “Another Version'; While Mirth and Sense sit, hand in with this foot-note: “The name Walter Har.
glove, court has been supplied by the Editor, S. C.'
This Don Philosophy we'll shove The following adaptation is now first printed
Dead drunk beneath the table ! from S. T. C.'s papers. -Ed.]
M. Post, Sep. 25, 1801. Obiit SATURDAY, SEPT. 10, 1830.
27 W. H. EHEU!
A HINT TO PREMIERS AND BENEATH this stone does William Hazlitt
FIRST CONSULS lie, Thankless of all that God or man FROM AN OLD TRAGEDY, VIZ. AGATHA could give.
TO KING ARCHELAUS He lived like one who never thought to die,
THREE truths should make thee often He died like one who dared not hope
think and pause ; to live.
The first is, that thou govern'st over Sept. 30, 1830.
The second, that thy power is from the
And this the third, that thou must
To wed a fool, I really cannot see die ! and then ?
Why thou, Eliza, art so very loth ; M. Post, Sep. 27, 1801.
Still on a par with other pairs you'd be,
Since thou hast wit and sense enough for 28
Morn. Post, Dec, 26, 1801.
[The twenty Original Epigrams' folDo call, dear Jess, whene'er my way you lowing were printed in the Morning Post come ;
in September and October 1802, with My looking-glass will always be at home.
the signature “ ΕΣΤΗΣΕ.] M. Post, Dec. 16, 1801.
(September 23, 1802.)
What is an Epigram? a dwarfish whole,
Its body brevity, and wit its soul.
34 SPECTING THE CONTEXT, AND THEN DERIDED IT AS UNINTELLIGIBLE. CHARLES, grave or merry, at no lie
would stick, Most candid critic, what if I,
And taught at length his memory the By way of joke, pull out your eye, And holding up the fragment, cry,
Believing thus what he so oft repeats Ha ! ha! that men such fools should
He's brought the thing to such a pass, be ! Behold this shapeless Dab and he
That now himself and no one else Who own'd it, fancied it could see !'
he cheats, The joke were mighty analytic,
Save when unluckily he tells the truth. But should you like it, candid critic? M. Post, Dec. 16, 1801.
An evil spirit's on thee, friend ! of late ! ALWAYS AUDIBLE
Ev'n from the hour thou cam’st to thy
Estate. Pass under Jack's window at twelve at night,
Thy mirth all gone, thy kindness, thy You'll hear him still--he's roaring !
discretion, Pass under Jack's window at twelve at
Th' estate hath prov'd to thee a most
complete possession. noon, You'll hear him still he's snoring !
Shame, shame, old friend ! would'st thou
be truly blest, Morn. Post, Dec. 19, 1801.
Be thy wealth's Lord, not slave! pos31
sessor, not possess'd. PONDERE NON NUMERO FRIENDS should be weigh'd, not told ; who boasts to have won
HERE lies the Devil—ask no other name. A multitude of friends, he ne'er had one. Well— but you mean Lord-M? Hush ! Morn. Post, Dec. 26, 1801.
we mean the same.
43 IN vain I praise thee, Zoilus !
In vain thou rail'st at me! Me no one credits, Zoilus !
And no one credits thee !
(October 9, 1802.)
39 OLD HARPY jeers at castles in the air, And thanks his stars,
whenever Edmund speaks, That such a dupe as that is not his
heirBut know, old Harpy! that these
fancy freaks, Though vain and light, as floating
gossamer, Always amuse, and sometimes mend the
heart : A young man's idlest hopes are still
his pleasures, And fetch a higher price in Wisdom's
mart Than all the unenjoying Miser's
EPITAPH ON A MERCENARY
A poor benighted Pedlar knock'd
One night at SELL-ALL's door,
Not utterly unwilling,
And took his only shilling!
40 TO A VAIN YOUNG LADY
Didst thou think less of thy dear self
Far more would others think of thee!
Walk'd in his sleep, and sleeping hung himself!
FROM AN OLD GERMAN POET And now his soul and body rest below ; And here they say his punishment and
[WERNICKE] fate is
That France has put us oft to rout To lie awake and every hour to know
With powder, which ourselves found out ; How many people read his tombstone And laughs at us for fools in print GRATIS.
Of which our genius was the mint ;
All this I easily admit, (October 11, 1802.)
For we have genius, France has wit. 45
But 'tis too bad, that blind and mad
To Frenchmen's wives each travelling A DIALOGUE BETWEEN
German goes, AN AUTHOR AND HIS FRIEND Expands his manly vigour by their sides,
Becomes the father of his country's foes Author. Come; your opinion of my And turns their warriors oft to parrimanuscript !
cides. Friend. Dear Joe! I would almost as
49 soon be whipt. Author. But I will have it !
ON THE CURIOUS CIRCUMFriend. If it must be had—(hesitating)
STANCE You write so ill, I scarce could read the
THAT IN THE GERMAN LANGUAGE THE hand
SUN IS FEMININE AND THE MOON Author. A mere evasion !
MASCULINE Friend. And you spell so bad, That what I read I could not understand. OUR English poets, bad and good, agree
To make the Sun a male, the Moon a she.
He drives his dazzling diligence on high, 46
In verse, as constantly as in the sky; Mwpooopía, OR WISDOM IN FOLLY | And cheap as blackberries our sonnets
shew TOM SLOTHFUL talks, as slothful Tom The Moon, Heaven's huntress, with HER beseems,
silver bow; What he shall shortly gain and what | By which they'd teach us, if I guess be doing,
aright, Then drops asleep, and so prolongs his Man rules the day, and woman rules the dreams
night. And thus enjoys at once what half the In Germany they just reverse the thing ; world are wooing.
The Sun becomes a queen, the Moon a
Now, that the Sun should represent the 47
women, Each Bond-street buck conceits, unhappy The Moon the men, to me seem'd mighty elf!
humming; He shews his clothes ! Alas! he shews And when I first read German, made me himself.
stare. O that they knew, these overdrest self- Surely it is not that the wives are there lovers,
As common as the Sun to lord and loon, What hides the body of the mind dis- And all their husbands horned as the covers.
SPOTS IN THE SUN
ON HIMSELF My father confessor is strict and holy, Mi Fili, still he cries, peccare noli. HERE sleeps at length poor Col., and And yet how oft I find the pious man
without screamingAt Annette's door, the lovely courtesan! Who died as he had always lived, a
, Her soul's deformity the good man wins
dreaming : And not her charms! he comes to hear Shot dead, while sleeping, by the gout her sins !
withinGood father ! I would fain not do thee
Alone and all unknown, at Edinbro' in wrong ;
1803. But ah ! I fear that they who oft and
54 long Stand gazing at the sun, to count each An excellent adage commands that we spot,
should Must sometimes find the sun itself too Relate of the dead that alone which is hot.
| But of the great Lord who here lies in 51
lead WHEN Surface talks of other people's We know nothing good but that he is worth
dead. He has the weakest memory on earth ! Friend, Nov. 12, 1809. And when his own good deeds he deigns to mention,
55 His memory still is no whit better grown; But then he makes up for it, all will own,
MOTTO By a prodigious talent of invention,
FOR A TRANSPARENCY DESIGNED BY
WASHINGTON ALLSTON AND EX
HIBITED AT BRISTOL ON 52
CLAMATION DAY'--June 29, 1814. TO MY CANDLE
WE've fought for Peace, and conquer'd THE FAREWELL EPIGRAM
it at last, Good Candle, thou that with thy brother,
The rav'ning vulture's leg seems fetter'd
fast ! Fire,
Britons, rejoice ! and yet be wary too : Art my best friend and comforter at
The chain may break, the clipt wing night,
sprout anew. Just snuff'd, thou look'st as if thou didst desire
[The following was suggested by Coleridge as an That I on thee an epigram should write.
alternative, but the former was used :--) Dear Candle, burnt down to a finger
joint, Thy own flame is an epigram of sight; 'Tis short, and pointed, and all over
WE'VE conquer'd us a Peace, like lads
true metalled : light, Yet gives most light and burns the keenest
And Bankrupt Nap's accompts seem all at the point. Valete et Plaudite.