Ah, me! when shall I marry me? * Sir, I send you a small production of the late Dr. Goldsmith, which has never been published, and which might perhaps have been totally lost, had I rot secured it. He intended it as a song in the character of Miss Hard. castle, in his admirable comedy of “ She Stoops to Con quer,” but it was left out, as Mrs. Bulkley, who play'd the part, did not fing. He sung it himself, in private companies very agreeably. The tune is a pretty Irish air, called “ The Humours of Balamagairy,” to which he told me he found it very difficult to adapt words; but he has succeeded very happily in these few lines. As I could 1 fing VOL. I. But I will rally and combat the ruiner : sing the tune, and was fond of them, he was so good as to give me them, about a year ago, just as I was leaving London, and bidding him adieu for that season, little ap. prehending that it was a last farewel. I preserve this little relic, in his own hand writing, with an affectionate care. I am, Sir, Your humble servant, JAMES Boswell. PRO In these bold times, when Learning's fons explore, With I 2 With Scythian stores, and trinkets deeply laden, (Upper gallery.) There mangroves spread, and larger than I've seen'em (Pit.) Here trees of stately fize--and billing turtles in 'em (Balconies.) Here ill conditioned oranges abound (Stage.) And apples, oitier apples strew the ground: [Tafting them. her, His |
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