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« To win me from his tender arms,

66 Unnumber'd suitors came, " Who prais'd me for imputed charms,

“ And felt, or feign'd a flame. “ Each hour a mercenary crowd

“ With richest proffers ftrove: Among the rest, young Edwin bow'd,

" But never talk'd of love.

“ In humble, fimpleft habit clad,

• No wealth or power had he; 6 Wisdom and worth were all he had

66 But there were all to me.

“ The blossoms opening to the day,

“ The dews of heaven refin'd, « Could nought of purity display,

• To emulate his mind.

“ The dew, the blossoms of the tree,

« With charms inconftant shine; 6. Their charms were his, but, woe to me,

Their constancy was mine! « For ftill I try'd each fickle art,

“ Importunate and vain; “ And while his passion touch'd my heart,

“ I triumph'd in his pain

“ Till quite dejected with my scorn,

6. He left me to my pride, • And sought a solitude forlorn,

“ In secret, where he died !

“ But mine the forrow, mine the fault,

“ And well my life shall pay; “ I'll seek the folitude he fought,

“ And stretch me where he lay; “ And there forlorn, despairing, hid,

“ I'll lay me down and die“ 'Twas fo for me that Edwin did,

“ And so for him will I."

“ Forbid it, heaven !" the Hermit cried,

And clasp'd her to his breast: The wondering fair-one turn’d to chide

'Twas Edwin's self that prest! * Turn, Angelina, ever dear

“ My charmer, turn to see " Thy own, thy long-loft Edwin here,

« Restor'd to love and thee!

“ Thus let me hold thee to my heart,

And every care resign: “ And shall we never, never part?

“ My life-my all that's mine! “ No, never, from this hour to part,

" We'll live and love so true, “ The sigh that rends thy constant heart

“ Shall break thy Edwin's too."

RETALIATION.

A POEM.

[Dr. Goldsmith, and the Gentlemen characterised in this poem, occasionally

dined at the St. James's Coffee-house---One day it was proposed to write Epitaphs on him. His country, dialect, and person, furnished subjects of witticism. He was called on for RETALIATION, and at their next meeting produced this Poem. It was first printed in the year 1774, after the Author's death.]

Orold, when Scarron his companions invited,
Each guest brought his dish, and the feaft was united;
Ifour landlord* fupplies us with beef, and with fish;
Let each guest bring himself, and he brings the best dish:
Our deant shall be venison, juft fresh from the plains;
Our Burket shall be tongue, with the garnish of brains;
Our Wills shall be wild fowl, of excellent flavour,
And Dickll with his pepper shall heighten the favour;
Our Cumberland's sweet-bread its place shall obtain,
And Douglas * is pudding, fubftantial and plain;
Our Garrick's :: a fallad-for in him we fee
Oil, vinegar, sugar, and faltnefs agree:

* The master of the St. James's Coffee-house. + Dr. Bernard, dean of Derry, in Ireland.

Mr. Edmund Burke. & Mr. William Burke, secretary to General Conway. 11 Mr. Richard Burke, collector of Grenada.

Mr. Richard Cumberland, author of the West Indian, and other dramatic pieces.

* Dr. Douglas, canon of Windsor, an ingenious Scotch gentleman, who has no less distinguished himself as a citizen of the world, than a sound critic, in detecting several literary mistakes (or rather forgeries) of his countrymen; particularly Lauder on Milton, and Bower's History of the Popes.

:: David Garrick, esq.

To make out the dinner, full certain I am,
That Ridge* is anchovy, and Reynoldst is lamb;
That Hickey'sť a capon; and, by the same rule,
Magnanimous Goldsmith a gooseberry fool.
At a dinner so various at such a repast,
Who'd not be a glutton, and stick to the last?
Here, waiter, more wine-let me fit while I'm able,
Till all my companions sink under the table;
Then, with chaos and blunders encircling my head,
Let me ponder, and tell what I think of the dead.

Here lies the good deang, reunited to earth,
Who mixt reason with pleasure, and wisdom with mirth:
If he had any faults, he has left us in doubt-
At least, in fix weeks, I could not find 'em out;
Yet some have declar'd, and it can't be deny'd em,
That fly-boots was cursedly cunning to hide 'em.

Here lies our good Edmund, whose genius was such, We scarcely can praise it, or blame it too much; Who, born for the universe, narrow'd his mind, And to party gave up what was meant for mankind. Tho' fraught with all learning, yet straining his throat, To persuade Tommy Townshendq to lend him a vote; Who, too deep for his hearers, still went on refining, And thoughtofconvincing, while they thought of dining; Though equal to all things, for all things unfitToo nice for a statesman-too proud for a wit, For a patriot, too cool-for a drudge, disobedient And too fond of the right to pursue the expedient. * Counsellor John Ridge, a gentleman belonging to the Irida bar. * Sir Joshua Reynolds. An eminent attorney.

& Vide

page 63.

# Vide page 63.

Mr. T. Townshend, member for Whitchurch.

In short, 'twas his fate, unemploy'd, or in place, fir, To eat mutton cold, and cut blocks with a razor.

Here lies honest William, * whose heart was a mint, While the owner ne'er knew half the good that was in't; The pupil of impulse, it forc'd him alongHis conduct still right, with his argument wrong; Still aiming at honour, yet fearing to roam, The coachman was tipsey, the chariot drove home : Would you

ask for his merits? alas! he had none; What was good was fpontaneous, his faults were his own.

Here lies honest Richard, whofe fate I must sigh at-
Alas, that such frolic should now be so quiet!
What fpirits were his! what wit and what whim!
Now breaking a jest, and now breaking a limb!+
Now wrangling and grumbling to keep up the ball!
Now teazing and vexing, yet laughing at all!
In short, so provoking a devil was Dick,
That we wish'd him full ten times a-day at Old Nick;
But, missing his mirth and agreeable vein,
As often we wilh'd to have Dick back again.

Here Cumberland | lies, having acted his parts-
The Terence of England, the mender of hearts;
A flattering painter, who made it his care
To draw men as they ought to be-not as they are:
His gallants are all faultless, his women divine,
And comedy wonders at being so fine-
Like a tragedy-queen he has dizen'd her out,
Or rather like tragedy giving a rout:

# Vide page 63.

+ Mr. Richard. Burke. This gentleman having nightly fractured one of his arms and legs, at different times, the doctor has rallied him on those accidents as a kind of retributive justice for breaking his jests upon other people. Vidc page 63.

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