Page:Fugitive Poetry 1600-1878.djvu/481
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Dr. Johnson's Ghost to Mrs. Piozzi.
"The following poem appeared immediately after the publication of Mrs. Piozzi's book of Johnsonian Gossip. Being merely an ephemeral piece, it seems to have been thrown aside, as soon as the personal interest of the subject expired. But it is too good to be lost; and we considered ourselves fortunate in being enabled to recover a copy of it. The original was embellished with a curious print, representing Dr. Johnson's ghost addressing Mrs. Piozzi very solemnly, with a purse dangling in its hand."—Bell.
Madam, my debt to Nature paid,
I thought the grave with hallowed shade,
Would now protect my name;
Yet there in vain I seek repose,
My friends each little fault disclose,
And murder Johnson's fame.
I thought the grave with hallowed shade,
Would now protect my name;
Yet there in vain I seek repose,
My friends each little fault disclose,
And murder Johnson's fame.
First Boswell, with officious care,
Showed me as men would show a bear,
And called himself my friend!
Sir John with nonsense strewed my hearse,
And Courtney pestered me with verse;
You torture without end.
Showed me as men would show a bear,
And called himself my friend!
Sir John with nonsense strewed my hearse,
And Courtney pestered me with verse;
You torture without end.
When Streatham spread its plenteous board,.
I opened learning's valued hoard,
And as I feasted prosed;
Good things I said, good things I eat,
I gave you knowledge for your meat,
And thought the account was closed.
I opened learning's valued hoard,
And as I feasted prosed;
Good things I said, good things I eat,
I gave you knowledge for your meat,
And thought the account was closed.
If obligations still I owed,
You sold each item to the crowd,—
I suffered by the tale;
I pray you, madam, let me rest,
Nor longer vex your quondam guest,
I'll pay you for your ale.
You sold each item to the crowd,—
I suffered by the tale;
I pray you, madam, let me rest,
Nor longer vex your quondam guest,
I'll pay you for your ale.
Shadows.
Deep! I own I start at shadows,
Listen, I will tell you why
(Life itself is but a taper,
Casting shadows till we die).
Listen, I will tell you why
(Life itself is but a taper,
Casting shadows till we die).