Here Whitefoord[32] reclines, and deny it who can,
Though he merrily liv’d, he is now a grave man:
Rare compound of oddity, frolic, and fun—
Who relish’d a joke, and rejoic’d in a pun;
Whose temper was generous, open, sincere—
A stranger to flattery, a stranger to fear;
Who scatter’d around wit and humour at will;
Whose daily bon mots half a column might fill;
A Scotchman, from pride and from prejudice free;
A scholar, yet surely no pedant was he.
What pity, alas! that so liberal a mind
Should so long be to newspaper essays confin’d;
Who perhaps to the summit of science could soar,
Yet content “if the table he set in a roar;”—
Whose talents to fill any station were fit,
Yet happy if Woodfall[33] confess’d him a wit.
Ye newspaper witlings! ye pert scribbling folks!
Who copied his squibs, and re-echoed his jokes:
Ye tame imitators, ye servile herd, come,
Still follow your master, and visit his tomb:
To deck it, bring with you festoons of the vine,
And copious libations bestow on his shrine;
Then strew all around it—you can do no less—
Cross-readings, Ship-news, and Mistakes of the Press.[34]
Merry Whitefoord, farewell! for thy sake I admit
That a Scot may have humour, I had almost said wit:
This debt to thy memory I cannot refuse—
“Thou best-humour’d man, with the worst-humour’d muse.”
FOOTNOTES:
[12] Paul Scarròn, a popular French writer, who died in 1660.
[13] Dr. Barnard, Dean of Derry, in Ireland.
[14] Edmund Burke.
[15] Mr. William Burke, secretary to General Conway.
[16] Mr. Richard Burke.