so fond of the name of a poet is grown, With gold he buys verses, and calls them his own. Go on, master Paul, nor mind what the world says, They are surely his own for which a man pays.
Some bad writer having taken the liberty to censure Mr Prior, the poet very wittily lashed his impertinence in this epigram:
While faster than his costive brain indites Philo's quick hand in flowing letters writes, His case appears to me like honest Teague's When he was run away with by his legs. Phoebus, give Philo o'er himself command; Quicken his senses, or restrain his hand; Let him be kept from paper, pen, and ink; So he may cease to write, and learn to think.
Mr Wesley has given us a pretty epigram, alluding to a well-known text of Scripture on the setting up a
n Westminster Abbey, to the memory of the ingenious Mr Butler, author of Hudibras.
While Butler, needy wretch, was yet alive, No generous patron would a dinner give. See him when starv'd to death, and turn'd to dust, Presented with a monumental bust! The poet's fate is here in emblem shown; He ask'd for Bread, and he receiv'd a Stone.
We shall close this section with an epigram written on the well-known story of Apollo and Daphne, by Mr Smart.
When Phoebus was am'rous and long'd to be rude, Miss Daphne cried Pish! and ran swift to the wood; And rather than do such a naughty affair, She became a fine laurel to deck the god's hair. The nymph was, no doubt of a cold constitution; For sure, to turn tree was an odd resolution! Yet in this she behav'd like a true modern spouse, For she fled from his arms to distinguish his brows.
Sect. XII. Of the Epitaph.
These compositions generally contain some elogium of the virtues and good qualities of the deceased, and have a turn of seriousness and gravity adapted to the
f the subject. Their elegance consists in a nervous and expressive brevity; and sometimes they are closed with an epigrammatical point. In these composi- tions, no mere epithet (properly so called) should be admitted: for here illustration would impair the strength, and render the sentiment too diffuse and languid. Words that are synonymous are also to be rejected.
Though the true characteristic of the epitaph is se- riousness and gravity, yet we may find many that are jeocose and ludicrous: some likewise have true metre and rhyme; while others are between prose and verse, without any certain measure, though the words are truly poetical; and the beauty of this last sort is generally heightened by an apt and judicious antithesis. We shall give examples of each.
The following epitaph on Sir Philip Sydney's sister, the countess of Pembroke, said to be written by the fa- mous Ben Johnson, is remarkable for the noble thought with which it concludes.
On Mary Countess-dowager of PEMBROKE.
Underneath this marble hearse, Lies the subject of all verse, Sidney's sister, Pembroke's mother:
etc thou hast kill'd another Fair, and learn'd, and good as she, Time shall throw a dart at thee.
Take another epitaph of Ben Johnson's, on a beauti- ful and virtuous lady, which has been deservedly admir- ed by very good judges.
Underneath this stone doth lie As much virtue as could die; Which when alive did vigour give To as much beauty as could live.
The following epitaph by Dr Samuel Johnson, on a musician much celebrated for his performance, will bear a comparison with these, or perhaps with any thing of the kind in the English language.
Philips? whose touch harmonious could remove The pangs of guilty pow'r and hapless love, Rest here, distrest by poverty no more; Find here that calm thou gav'st so oft before; Sleep undisturb'd within this peaceful shrine, Till angels wake thee with a note like thine.
It is the just observation of an eminent critic, that the best subject for epitaphs is private virtue; virtue exerted in the same circumstances in which the bulk of mankind are placed, and which, therefore, may admit of many imitators. He that has delivered his country from oppression, or freed the world from ignorance and