Receive the tributes of the great.
“Let me, when bade with life to part
And in my narrow mansion sleep,
Receive a tribute from the heart,
Nor bribe one sordid eye to weep.”
DAVID SERVICE, AND OTHER SONGSTERS OF THE COBBLER’S STALL.
David Service of Yarmouth represents a pretty numerous class of songsters of the cobbler’s stall, worthy men in their way, but writers of inferior merit, of whom much cannot be said. Such writers were John Foster of Winteringham, Lincolnshire, who owed the publication of his “Serious Poems,” in 1793, to the kindness of the vicar of the parish; J. Johnstone, a Scotchman, who published a small volume of poems in 1823; the Rev. James Nichol of Traquair, Selkirkshire, who in his shoemaking days “published two or three volumes of poetry.”[149] Gavin Wilson, of Edinburgh, who, in 1788, published “A Collection of Masonic Songs,“ of whom Campbell says: ”I knew Gavin Wilson; he was an honest, merry fellow, and a good boot, leather-leg, arm, and hand maker, but as sorry a poetaster as ever tried a couplet.”[150] James Devlin, a man of versatile gifts and most irregular habits, who by turns wrote poetry, corresponded for the Daily News, and contributed to the Spectator, Builder, and Notes and Queries, and died about twenty years ago in poverty and obscurity.[151] These men, as regards their literary merit and fame, excepting perhaps the last, are well represented by the herdboy from the banks of the Clyde, who, after serving his time as a sutor at Greenock, journeyed south in search of work, and settled at Yarmouth, Norfolk, and there, at the age of twenty-seven, published a “Rural Poem,” called “The Caledonian Herdboy,” in 1802. Two years after he was encouraged by his friends to issue “The Wild Harp’s Murmurs” and “St. Crispin, or the Apprentice Boy,” the former being dedicated to that friend of unknown young poets, Capel Lofft, the friend of the Bloomfields and Kirke White. His last adventure in this line bore the romantic title “A Voyage and Travels in the Region of the Brain.” This verse occurs in one of his publications—
“‘Apollo, why,’ a matron cried,
‘Are poets all so poor?’