"I give to those that fish for parts, Long sleepless nights, and aching hearts, A little soul, a fawning spirit, With half a grain of plodding merit, Which is, as Heaven I hope will say, Giving what"s not my own away.
"Those _oven baked_ or _goose egg folded_, Who, though so often I have told it, With all my doc.u.ments to show it, Will scarce believe that I"m a poet, I give of criticism the lens With half an ounce of common sense.
"And "t would a breach be of humanity, Not to bequeath D---n[71] my vanity; For "tis a rule direct from Heaven, _To him that hath, more shall be given_.
"_Item_. Tom M----n,[72] COLLEGE LION, Who"d ne"er spend cash enough to buy one, The BOANERGES of a pun, A man of science and of fun, That quite uncommon witty elf, Who darts his bolts and shoots himself, Who oft hath bled beneath my jokes, I give my old _tobacco-box_.
"My _Centinels_[73] for some years past, So neatly bound with thread and paste, Exposing Jacobinic tricks, I give my chum _for politics_.
"My neckcloth, dirty, old, yet _strong_, That round my neck has lasted long, I give BIG BOY, for deed of pith, Namely, to hang himself therewith.
"To those who"ve parts at exhibition Obtained by long, unwearied fishing, I say, to such unlucky wretches, I give, for wear, a brace of breeches; Then used; as they"re but little tore, I hope they"ll show their tails no more.
"And ere it quite has gone to rot, I, B---- give my blue great-coat, With all its rags, and dirt, and tallow, Because he"s such a dirty fellow.
"Now for my books; first, _Bunyan"s Pilgrim_, (As he with thankful pleasure will grin,) Though dog-leaved, torn, in bad type set in, "T will do quite well for cla.s.smate B----, And thus, with complaisance to treat her, "T will answer for another Detur.
"To him that occupies my study, I give, for use of making toddy, A bottle full of _white-face_ STINGO, Another, handy, called a _mingo_.
My wit, as I"ve enough to spare, And many much in want there are, I ne"er intend to keep at _home_, But give to those that handiest come, Having due caution, _where_ and _when_, Never to spatter _gentlemen_.
The world"s loud call I can"t refuse, The fine productions of my muse; If _impudence_ to _fame_ shall waft her, I"ll give the public all, hereafter.
My love-songs, sorrowful, complaining, (The recollection puts me pain in,) The last sad groans of deep despair, That once could all my entrails tear; My farewell sermon to the ladies; My satire on a woman"s head-dress; My epigram so full of glee, Pointed as epigrams should be; My sonnets soft, and sweet as la.s.ses, My GEOGRAPHY of MOUNT PARNa.s.sUS; With all the bards that round it gather, And variations of the weather; Containing more true humorous satire, Than"s oft the lot of human nature; ("O dear, what can the matter be!"
I"ve given away my _vanity_; The vessel can"t so much contain, It runs o"er and comes back again.) My blank verse, poems so majestic, My rhymes heroic, tales agrestic; The whole, I say, I"ll overhaul "em, Collect and publish in a volume.
"My heart, which thousand ladies crave, That I intend my wife shall have.
I"d give my foibles to the wind, And leave my vices all behind; But much I fear they"ll to me stick, Where"er I go, through thin and thick.
On WISDOM"S _horse_, oh, might I ride, Whose steps let PRUDENCE" bridle guide.
Thy loudest voice, O REASON, lend, And thou, PHILOSOPHY, befriend.
May candor all my actions guide, And o"er my every thought preside, And in thy ear, O FORTUNE, one word, Let thy swelled canvas bear me onward, Thy favors let me ever see, And I"ll be much obliged to thee; And come with blooming visage meek, Come, HEALTH, and ever flush my cheek; O bid me in the morning rise, When tinges Sol the eastern skies; At breakfast, supper-time, or dinner, Let me against thee be no sinner.
"And when the gla.s.s of life is run, And I behold my setting sun, May conscience sound be my protection, And no ungrateful recollection, No gnawing cares nor tumbling woes, Disturb the quiet of life"s close.
And when Death"s gentle feet shall come To bear me to my endless home, Oh! may my soul, should Heaven but save it, Safely return to G.o.d who gave it."
_Federal Orrery_, Oct. 29, 1795. _Buckingham"s Reminiscences_, Vol. II. pp. 228-231, 268-273.
It is probable that the idea of a "College Will" was suggested to Biglow by "Father Abbey"s Will," portions of which, till the present generation, were "familiar to nearly all the good housewives of New England." From the history of this poetical production, which has been lately printed for private circulation by the Rev. John Langdon Sibley of Harvard College, the annexed transcript of the instrument itself, together with the love-letter which was suggested by it, has been taken. The instances in which the accepted text differs from a Broadside copy, in the possession of the editor of this work, are noted at the foot of the page.
"FATHER ABBEY"S WILL:
TO WHICH IS NOW ADDED, A LETTER OF COURTSHIP TO HIS VIRTUOUS AND AMIABLE WIDOW.
"_Cambridge, December_, 1730.
"Some time since died here Mr. Matthew Abbey, in a very advanced age: He had for a great number of years served the College in quality of Bedmaker and Sweeper: Having no child, his wife inherits his whole estate, which he bequeathed to her by his last will and testament, as follows, viz.:--
"To my dear wife My joy and life, I freely now do give her, My whole estate, With all my plate, Being just about to leave her.
"My tub of soap, A long cart-rope, A frying pan and kettle, An ashes[74] pail, A threshing-flail, An iron wedge and beetle.
"Two painted chairs, Nine warden pears, A large old dripping platter, This bed of hay On which I lay, An old saucepan for b.u.t.ter.
"A little mug, A two-quart jug, A bottle full of brandy, A looking-gla.s.s To see your face, You"ll find it very handy.
"A musket true, As ever flew, A pound of shot and wallet, A leather sash, My calabash, My powder-horn and bullet.
"An old sword-blade, A garden spade, A hoe, a rake, a ladder, A wooden can, A close-stool pan, A clyster-pipe and bladder.
"A greasy hat, My old ram cat, A yard and half of linen, A woollen fleece, A pot of grease,[75]
In order for your spinning.
"A small tooth comb, An ashen broom, A candlestick and hatchet, A coverlid Striped down with red, A bag of rags to patch it.
"A rugged mat, A tub of fat, A book put out by Bunyan, Another book By Robin Cook,[76]
A skein or two of spun-yarn.
"An old black m.u.f.f, Some garden stuff, A quant.i.ty of borage,[77]
Some devil"s weed, And burdock seed, To season well your porridge.
"A chafing-dish, With one salt-fish.
If I am not mistaken, A leg of pork, A broken fork, And half a flitch of bacon.
"A spinning-wheel, One peck of meal, A knife without a handle, A rusty lamp, Two quarts of samp, And half a tallow candle.
"My pouch and pipes, Two oxen tripes, An oaken dish well carved, My little dog, And spotted hog, With two young pigs just starved.
"This is my store, I have no more, I heartily do give it: My years are spun, My days are done, And so I think to leave it.
"Thus Father Abbey left his spouse, As rich as church or college mouse, Which is sufficient invitation To serve the college in his station."
_Newhaven, January_ 2, 1731.
"Our sweeper having lately buried his spouse, and accidentally hearing of the death and will of his deceased Cambridge brother, has conceived a violent pa.s.sion for the relict. As love softens the mind and disposes to poetry, he has eased himself in the following strains, which he transmits to the charming widow, as the first essay of his love and courtship.
"MISTRESS Abbey To you I fly, You only can relieve me; To you I turn, For you I burn, If you will but believe me.
"Then, gentle dame, Admit my flame, And grant me my pet.i.tion; If you deny, Alas! I die In pitiful condition.
"Before the news Of your dear spouse Had reached us at New Haven, My dear wife dy"d, Who was my bride In anno eighty-seven.
"Thus[78] being free, Let"s both agree To join our hands, for I do Boldly aver A widower Is fittest for a widow.
"You may be sure "T is not your dower I make this flowing verse on; In these smooth lays I only praise The glories[79] of your person.
"For the whole that Was left by[80] _Mat._ Fortune to me has granted In equal store, I"ve[81] one thing more Which Matthew long had wanted.
"No teeth, "t is true, You have to shew, The young think teeth inviting; But silly youths!
I love those mouths[82]
Where there"s no fear of biting.
"A leaky eye, That"s never dry, These woful times is fitting.
A wrinkled face Adds solemn grace To folks devout at meeting.
"[A furrowed brow, Where corn might grow, Such fertile soil is seen in "t, A long hook nose, Though scorned by foes, For spectacles convenient.][83]