While the coward, grim Death, we must blame,
For if in the morn he to Shepperton went,
He feared Fletcher’s true science and game.
“Then repose to his ashes, soft rest to his soul,
For harmless was he through life’s span,
With the friend of his bosom, enjoying the bowl,
And wishing no evil to man.”
“February, 1807.”
[108]. “Recollections of an Octogenarian,” 8vo., London, 1812.
[109]. Pierce Egan says, “Seabrook was so completely frightened out of all his conceit, that he almost bolted from the spot.” What that may mean we cannot explain.