« ZurückWeiter »
So peaceful rests, without a stone, a name, What once had beauty, titles, wealth, and fame. How lov'd, how honour'd once, avails thee not, To whom related, or by whom begot; A heap of dust alone remains of thee, 'Tis all thou art, and all the proud shall be!
Poets themselves must fall like those they sung, Deaf the prais'd ear, and mute the tuneful tongue. Ev’n he, whose soul now melts in mournful lays, Shall shortly want the gen'rous tear he pays; Then from his closing eyes thy form shall part, And the last pang shall tear thee from his heart; Life's idle business at one gasp be o'er, The Muse forgot, and thou belov'd no more!
VIII.-WOLSEY AND CROMWELL.
Wol.-Farewell, a long farewell to all my greatness !
pomp and glory of the world, I hate ye !
More pangs and fears than war or women have ;
Crom.-I have no power to speak, sir.
Crom.—How does your Grace ?
Wol.-Cromwell, I did not think to shed a tear In all my miseries, but thou hast forced me, Out of thy honest truth, to play the womanLet's dry our eyes ; and thus far hear me, Cromwell, And when I am forgotten, as I shall be, And sleep in dull cold marble, where no mention Of me must more be heard, say then I taught thee ; Say Wolsey, that once rode the waves of glory, And sounded all the depths and shoals of honour, Found thee a way, out of his wreck, to rise in ; A sure and safe one, though thy master missed it. Mark but my fall, and that which ruined me: Cromwell, I charge thee fling away ambition ; By that sin fell the angels ; how can man then (Though th' image of his Maker) hope to win by 't? Love thyself last; cherish those hearts that wait thee; Corruption wins not more than honesty. Still in thy right hand carry gentle peace, To silence envious tongues. Be just, and fear not. Let all the ends thou aim'st at be thy country's, Thy God's and Truth's; then if thou fall’st, O Cromwell, Thou fall'st a blessed martyr! Lead me in, and take an inventory of all I have, To the last penny, 'tis the King's. My robe, And my integrity to Heav'n, are all I dare now call my own. O Cromwell, Cromwell, Had I but servd my God with half the zeal I serv'd my King, he would not in mine age Have left me naked to mine enemies !
IX. ON THE DEATH OF HENRY KIRKE WHITE.
UNHAPPY White! while life was in its spring,
Oh! what a noble heart was here undone,
X. UNHAPPY CLOSE OF LIFE.
How shocking must thy summons be, O Death!
HUMOROUS, SATIRICAL, AND COMIC PIECES.
1.-ON FEMALE ORATORY.
We are told by some ancient authors, that Socrates was instructed in eloquence by a woman, whose name, if I am not mistaken, was Aspasia. I have indeed very often looked upon that art as the most proper for the female sex; and I think the universities would do well to consider whether they should not fill the rhetoric chairs with she-professors.
It has been said in the praise of some men, that they could talk whole hours together upon any thing; but it must be owned, to the bonour of the other sex, that there are many among them who can talk whole hours together upon nothing. I have known a woman branch out into a long extempore dissertation upon the edging of a petticoat, and chide her servant for breaking a china cup, in all the figures of rhetoric.
Were women admitted to plead in courts of judicature, I am persuaded they would carry the eloquence of the bar to greater heights than it has yet arrived at. If any one doubts this, let him but be present at those debates which frequently arise among the ladies of the British fishery.'
The first kind, therefore of female orators which I shall take notice of, are those who are employed in stirring up the passions; a part of rhetoric in which Socrates's wife had perhaps made a greater proficiency than his above-mentioned teacher.
The second kind of female orators are those who deal in invectives, and who are commonly known by the name of the Censorious. The imagination and elocution of this set of rhetoricians is wonderful. With what a fluency of invention, and copiousness of expression, will they enlarge upon every little slip in the behaviour of another! With how many different circumstances, and with what variety of
i The writer means the Fishwomen of Billingsgate.