“TO HER WHO WAS ONCE MISS BIDDY BELLAIR.

“Greeting.
“No boisterous hackney coachman clown,
No frisky fair nymph of the town
E’er wore so insolent a brow
As Captain Flash, since Hymen’s vow
To him in silken bonds has tied
So sweet, so fair, so kind a bride.
Well! curse me, now, if I can bear it!—
Though to his face I’d not declare it—
To think that you should take a dance
With such a roister into France;
And leave poor Will in torturing anguish
To sigh and pine, to grieve and languish.
’Twas—let me tell you, Ma’am—quite cruel!
Though Jack and I shall fight a duel
If ever he to England come
And does not skulk behind a drum.
But—apropos to coming over,
I hope you soon will land at Dover
That I may fly, more swift than hawk,
With you to have some serus talk.
[Pg 114]
The while, how great will be my bliss
Should you but deign to let me kiss—
O may these ardent vows prevail!—
Your little finger’s vermeil nail!
Who am,
Till direful death to dust shall crumble,
My dearest cretur! yours,

most humble,
“Will Fribble.”

Mrs. Greville, too, had commenced being an author; but without either the throes of pain or the joys of hope. It was, in fact, a burst of genius emanating from a burst of sorrow, which found an alleviating vent in a supplication to Indifference.
This celebrated ode was no sooner seen than it was hailed with a blaze of admiration, that passed first from friend to friend; next from newspapers to magazines; and next to every collection of fugitive pieces of poetry in the English language.[16]
[Pg 115]
The constant friendship that subsisted between this lady and Mr. Burney bad been cemented after his marriage, by the grateful pleasure with which he saw his chosen partner almost instantly included in it by a triple bond. The quick-sighted, and quick-feeling author of............