An Epistle in Verse, occasioned by the death of James Boswell, Esquire of Auchinleck -- Addressed to the Rev. Dr. T. D. By the Rev. Samuel Martin |
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 | An Epistle in Verse, occasioned by the death of James Boswell, Esquire |  |
To borrow Garrick's language, This is he,
The portly god of his idolatry,
Whom hospitality could not assuage,
Fierce and confirm'd in anti-Scotian rage;
Whom bigotry would not permit to share
The boon, to hear a Robertson or Blair:
“No presbyterian tub shall Johnson see;
Yet, might I hear, would Blair ascend a tree.”
This, this is he, of madness-verging gloom,
Whose superstition favours much of Rome;
Whose conversation carries you along,
Alike, if he is right, if he is wrong,
Paratus in utrumque; and whose wit
To check or failure deign'd not to submit:
His pistol misses fire, on foe or friend,
He lays them on the ground, with the butt-end.
The portly god of his idolatry,
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Fierce and confirm'd in anti-Scotian rage;
Whom bigotry would not permit to share
The boon, to hear a Robertson or Blair:
“No presbyterian tub shall Johnson see;
Yet, might I hear, would Blair ascend a tree.”
This, this is he, of madness-verging gloom,
Whose superstition favours much of Rome;
Whose conversation carries you along,
Alike, if he is right, if he is wrong,
Paratus in utrumque; and whose wit
To check or failure deign'd not to submit:
His pistol misses fire, on foe or friend,
He lays them on the ground, with the butt-end.
| An Epistle in Verse, occasioned by the death of James Boswell, Esquire | |