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! Now breaking a jest, and now breaking a limb!* Now wrangling and grumbling to keep up the ball! Now teasing 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 wish'd to have Dick back again. 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 different 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 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. 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? Or, wherefore his characters thus without fault? To find out men's virtues, and finding them few, * 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 Kenricks† shall lecture; Macpherson write bombast, and call it a style, Our Townshend|| make speeches, and I shall compile; New Lauders and Bowers** the Tweed shall cross over, 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: Yet, with talents like these, and an excellent heart, Like an ill-judging beauty, his colours he spread, 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 Woodfalls‡ so grave, What a commerce was yours, while you got and you gave? How did Grub-street re-echo the shouts that you rais'd, While he was be-Roscius'd and you were beprais'd? But 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. * Vide page 79. Mr. Hugh Kelly, author of False Delicacy, Word to the Wise, Clementina, School for Wives, &c. &c. Mr. W. Woodfall, printer of the Morning Chronicle. P |