Thomas Bedingfeld.

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THE LIBRARY

OF

THE UNIVERSITY

OF CALIFORNIA

LOS ANGELES



-"i



<,



POETRY,



POETRY,

jTustttDe ana Orfstnal;



BY THE LATE



THOMAS BEDINGFELD, ESQ.

AND

MR. GEORGE PICKERING.



WITH' NOTES AND SOME ADDITIONAL PIECES,

BY A FRIEND. U'*^' '^^^ t ^-^ ^'^'^



CoUecta revirescent.



NEWCASTLE:



PRINTED AND SOLD BY S. HODGSON, UNION-STREET;

80LP ALSO BY MR. CHARNLEY, MESSRS. AKENHKAD, AND MR. FINLAY,

NEWCASTLE ; AND MESSRS. CRADOCK AND JOY,

PATERNOSTER-ROW, LONDON.

1815.



H



Si^x'^V'- oziaii-H '^,



jA>ioiTiaaA '4U'



-40S>9



TO

WALTER SCOTT, ESQUIRE,

THIS

COLLECTION OF POETRY,

WHICH

IN A GREAT MEASURE OWES ITS EXISTENCE TO A
WISH EXPRESSED BY HIM,

IS INSCRIBED,

WITH

SENTIMENTS OF HIGH ADMIRATION,

AND

SINCERE REGARD,

xr

THE EDITOR.



824071



CONTENTS.





FAB.


Introductory Memoir , . .


ix


Invocation to Harmony


3


Instructions to a Porter . .


5


On four beautiful Sisters


9


Epigram on Miss B. H.'s Marriage


11


On the Death of Miss F. H.'s Lover


13


Old Age the Season of Friendship not of Love


16


To Mrs. C. . . . . ,


19


The Relapse . . . . ,


22


The Triumph of Beauty ...


26


Anniversary of Mr. Pitt*s Premiership


41


Address to a Lady of Ireland . . .


44


Elegy, addressed to Mr. Pickering


49


Donocht-head .....


55


Epitaph , , . . . ,


59


To Sleep


61


Epistle to T. D. Esq. . . .


63


Chester Well . .


70


Hunting Song ....


15


To Hope .....


78


The Moaning Clock and Hollow Wind


84



Vlll



Sonnet . .

Sweet Anna . . .

The Inn ...

Ode on the 31st of December

T Hope

On the Slave Trade

On Gold

Winter

Epistle from Thomas Paine

The Crow Nest

Epistle to Mr. R. B., in Prose

Lapponian Poetry

Ode to Morpheus

London

To a Lady recovering from Sickness

Letter to T. D. Esq. with a Key

Epigramma

A Recantation

The Inn . . . .

To a Miniature Portrait

The Dream

Epitaph

The Rights of Woman

The Origin of Britain . . ,



rAGX.

87

88

91

93

96

98

102

106

109

116

120

125

147

151

154

156

158

160

163

166

169

174

176

181



'rtaht7n.~-Page 49, line the last, for attend read eartend.



INTRODUCTORY MEMOIR.



In compliance with custom, more than from a con-
viction of its universal propriety, the following col-
lection of the literary remains of two deceased men
of genius is prefaced, with some very brief biogra-
phical observations.

Thomas Bedingfeld* was descended, by both his
parents, from very ancient and honourable families,
being the second son of the late Edward Bedingfeld,
Esq. of York, who was a younger son of Sir Henry
Arundell Bedingfeld, Baronet, of Oxborough, in the
county of Norfolk, by Lady Elizabeth Boyle, eldest
daughter of Charles, Earl of Burlington. His

* Feld is the ancient orthography, and signifies the same
as Field. See Verstegan, who, however, writes this name
" Bedingfeld:*



mother was Mary, daughter of Sir John Swinburne,
Baronet, of Capheaton, in the county of Northum-
berland. He was born at York on the 18th of Feb.
1760, and, when of sufficient age, was sent for edu-
cation to the university of Liege, in Germany, where
he continued to study the languages, with success,
about six years; and whatever observations may
have been made, in some instances, on the torpid in-
fluence of the system of education pursued in the
English seminaries on the confinent, it is certain
that the mind of Mr. Bedingfeld experienced no
such effect; for, after his return to England, he
exhibited not only a clear and sound judgment in
the study of the law, but an admirable talent for
poetry, and great liveliness in conversation. As an
introduction to the study of the law, more particu-
larly in that branch of it which is technically called
Conveyancing, he was in December, 1780, placed as
a clerk in the highly-respectable office of the late
Mr. Davidson, of Newcastle upon Tyne, where he
met with

George Pickering, the eldest son of a gentleman
of the same name, who was successively land-steward
to Sir Lancelot Allgood, of Nunwick, and Sir William



XI



Middleton, of Belsay Castle, in Noriliumberland, in
which latter employment he died, greatly respected
for his integrity and private worth, Mr. Pickering
was born at Simonburn, in Northumberland, in or
about the month of January, 1758,* and received the
rudiments of education, at that place, under Mr.
Joseph Atkinson, a schoolmaster of great reputation
and success in those branches of learning not con-
nected with the classicks. In the year 1770, or
1771, he was placed, for education in the languages,
under the tuition of the Reverend Joseph Harrison,
master of the grammar school of Haydon Bridge, in
Northumberland, a teacher of considerable eminence,
who, to the requisite strictness and attention of a
master, united the kindness of a parent, and to whose
memory the writer of this short memoir, who after-
wards also became his pupil, gladly seizes the oppor-
tunity of paying a small tribute of respect. In De-
cember, 1776, Mr. Pickering became a clerk in Mr.
Davidson's office before-mentioned, and to him, after
some little time, was chiefly committed the arduous
management of the stamp-office for Northumber-

* The register of his baptism is dated the 11th of Janu-
ary, 1758.

b2



Xll



land, Newcastle, and Berwick: an employment of
very considerable trust.

In the beginning of the year, 1733, the editor of
the present publicg,tion, upon the death of a gentle-
man to whom he was first articled, became the asso-
ciate of Mr. Bedingfeid and Mr. Pickering, in the
office of Messrs. Davidson, the successors of their
deceased father. A similarity of literary inclination,
with whatever inequality of genius, almost unavoid-
ably produced a considerable degree of friendship,
particularly between the latter, whose acquaintance
had been of longer duration; and the dilecti magistri
of these young men being themselves young, and
much attached to elegant literature, sometimes dis-
played, by one of them at least, in poetical composi-
tions of great beauty and point,* there thus existed,
if not " a constellation of genius," a sort of literary

* The editor is indebted to Mr. Thomas Davidson for
most essential assistance in recovering several of J.Ir. Pick-
ering's pieces, and also for many of the facts mentioned in
tliis memoir, short and imperfect as it still is. To the same
gentleman, and to Mr. John Murray, the editor is also un-
der great obligations for their attention to the progress and
correction of the press : a duty which his own distant re-
sidence would not permit him to perform.



xm



association not very common in a law-office: a soil
generally supposed to be as unfavourable to poetry
as to anotber plant that shall be nameless, but which
has nevertheless been found indigenous in the office
in question, at least so far as concerns the principals.
A partial separation took place in 1784, by the
removal of Mr. Bedingfeld to Lincoln's Inn, where
he continued the study of the law, under the direc-
tion of that eminent conveyancer, Matthew Duane,
Esquire, and, after his decease, of his nephew, the
late Mr. Bray. Towards the latter end of 1787, Mr.
Bedingfeld commenced practice on his own account,
in the Inner Temple, as a conveyancer and chamber
counsel (being a Roman Catholick, and as such in-
capable, by the existing laws, of the priviledges of
the English bar), and was rising rapidly to consider-
ation in that profession, when his own hopes and the
well-grounded expectations of his friends were ter-
minated by his death, which took place in Novem-
ber, 1789-* Some time after that period, it is

* His death was announced in the Gentleinan*s Maga-
zine for November, 1789, to have taken place on the 18th
of that month, and he was stiled ** Thq. Bedingficld, Esq.
" son. of Sir Rich. B., Bart, of Oxborough, co. Norfolk,"



XIV

believed, Mr. Pickering went abroad, and it is so
long since his friends have had any information re-
specting him, there is too much reason to apprehend
that he also has taken his last departure from that
great inn, the world.*

After Mr. Bedingfeld's death some of his poems
were published in London, under the title of " Poems,

" by T. B g d, Esquire, of the Inner Temple;"

but the editor had, notwithstanding, thought it a
subject of regret, that the literary compositions of
these, his early friends, should remain either unpub-
lished, or scattered in magazines and newspapers,

whicl), in tlie following montli, was thus corrected " G.

" W. O. tells us, Mr. Bedingfeld (not Bedingfield), was
* the son of Mr. B. of York, who is related to the Norfolk
" Baronet. He was a young man of fine parts, served a
" icw years with Messrs. Davidsons, attornies, at Newcas-
" tie ; came to London about six years ago, was clerk to
" the late eminent conveyancer, Matthew Duane, Esq.,
" since whose death Mr. B. practised as a chamber counsel
" (being a Roman Catholic) on his own account." But
the Newcastle Chi-onicle of the 14th of November states
Mr. B.'s death to have taken place on the Jifth, which
thei'e is reason to believe js the true date of that melan-
choly event.

* See p. 91.



XV

with the exception of the pamphlet above-mention*
ed,* and he was at length induced to attempt the
collection of them by an expression of similar regret

* That publication was mentioned as surreptitious by a
correspondent of the Monthly Magazine, under the signa-
ture of Alboin, and date August 10, 1800 ; and as the let-
ter seems to have been written by some person acquainted
with both our authors, the following extract is given :
" * The fragment, of which Robert Burns said DonochU
" * Head is not mine. I would give ten pounds it were,'
" was written by Mr. George Pickering, then of Newcas-
** tie upon Tyne. * * * Mr. Bedingfeld (whose
** poems, surreptitiously printed, are known to few, but
* by those few admired) was at the time his coadjutor
" and friend. There are, Mr. Editor, several gentlemen,
" and among those a worthy Baronet, whose knowledge and
** taste might enrich your publication with authentic and
** interesting memoirs of Pickering and Bedingfeld."
The present editor sincerely regrets that the imperfect
sketch, now offered, has not been anticipated by the au-
thentic and interesting memoirs thus suggested; and he
peculiarly laments that the suggestion failed of its effect
on the highly-respected Baronet alluded to, whose acknow-
ledged taste and abilities would have rendered a pub-
lication, like this, more interesting and more complete.
He begs leave, however, to offer that gentleman his grate-
ful acknowledgements, for the trouble he politely took to
examine his papers, in the hope of finding more of Mr.
Bedingfeld's poems, and for information respecting him of
which the editor has availed himself in this memoir.



XVI

which fell from the best, and most celebrated,
poet of the present age. That gentleman has kindly
patronized the work, by permitting it to be inscribed
to him; but, whilst the editor gratefu% avails him-
self of such permission, he owes it, as a necessary
justice to Mr. Scott, to state, that his regret was
confined to the productions of Mr. Bedingfeld and
Mr. Pickering, having at that time no cause to sus-
pect that the editor had ever, to use the whimsical
expression of Bums, " committed the sin of rhyme/'
The publication now offered contains the whole of
these productions, that the editor has been able to
collect, and he hopes it will be acceptable to the ad-
mirers of genius, and more particularly to those, who
had the pleasure of being acquainted with the re-
spective authors when living.

For having presumed to annex some almost-for-
gotten Trifles of his own, the editor acknowledges he
has no' strictly legitimate excuse : but being unable
to recover more of the superior compositions of his
friends he has been induced, somewhat unwillingly,
to make a small addition to the size, if not to the in-
trinsick value, of a volume still far from bulky.



POEMS,



BY



MR. BEDINGFELD.



AN



INVOCATION



HARMONY.



Celestial Harmony ! descend,

The wrinkled brow of care unbend ;

Thy cheerful voice let sorrow hear,

And cease to drop the pensive tear :

Bid joy, extatick joy, impart

Its pleasing influence to the heart.

Descend, celestial Harmony,

Joy owes its sweetest charm to thee !
B 2



4

When love the bosom fills, 'tis thine
His power to heighten and refine.
Thy thrilling warblings, soft and slow,
Attuned to melting passion flow.
And bid the soul, enraptured, prove
That musick is the voice of love.
Descend, celestial Harmon}^,
Love owes its sweetest charm to thee !

Enchanting power ! 'tis thine to still

The storms that life's sad circle fill.

The burthen of our woes to ease.

And make our pleasures doubly please :

Each tender feeling to refine

Through life, enchanting power ! is thine.

Descend, celestial Harmony,

Life owes its sweetest charm to thee!



a



INSTRUCTIONS

TO

A PORTER.

You ! to whose care I've now consigned
My house's entrance caution use

While you discharge your trust, and mind
Whom you admit and whom refuse.

Let no fierce passions enter here,

Passions the raging hreast that storm,

Nor scornful Pride, nor servile Fear,
Nor Hate, nor Envi/*s pallid form.



6

Should Atarice call ^you'll let her know
Of heaped-up riches I've no store,

And that she has no right to go
Where Plutus has not been before.

Lo ! on a visit hither bent,

High-plumed Ambition stalks about !
But should he enter sweet Content

Will give me warning shut him out.

Perhaps the Muse may pass this way
And though, full oft, I've bent the knee.

And long invoked her magic sway,
Smit with the love of harmony.

Alone though she might please yet still
I know she'll with Ambition come.

With lust of fame my heart she'll fill.
She'll break my rest, Fm not at home.



There is a rascal, old and hideous, ^*' ^'''"' ^>
Who oft (and sometimes not in vain)

Close at my gate has watched, assiduous,
In hopes he might admission gain.

His name is Care if he should call.

Quick out of doors with vigour throw him,

And tell the miscreant, once for all,

I know him not, and ne'er will know him.

Perhaps then Bacchus, foe to care.
May think he'll sure my favour win

His promises of joy are fair,

But false you must not let him in.

But welcome that Sweet Power, on whom
The young desires attendant move :

Still flushed with beauty's vernal bloom,
Parent of bliss ! the Queen of Love!



O, you will know her ! she has stole
The lustre of my Delia's eye

Admit her hail her for my soul
Breathes double life when she is nigh !

If then stern Wisdom at my gate

Should knock, with all her formal train-
Tell her I'm busy she may wait
Or if she chuses call again.



ON

FOUR BEAUTIFUL SISTERS



At



NEWCASTLE UPON TYNE.

IE daughters of ! each mortal may see

Such symptoms of sweetness, of beauty such traces,

In every dear feature, that were ye but threCj

Each mortal would whisper " Behold the three Graces.'^

But since, heavenly charmers ! your number is four,
A fourth heavenly name must be thought on between
us;

Each mortal, whose eyes the fair group shall explore,
Must whisper " Behold the three Graces and Venus."



10

Yet whom to distinguish with Venus's name

Is a point, that must puzzle a poor rhyming elf:

For the handmaids of Beauty to rank cannot claim
With the sweet-smiling Goddess of Beauty herself.

'Tis not in your charms the distinction I'll seek,
With equal attraction beholders they feast,

So sparkling each eye, and so blooming each cheek.
Each nymph is a Goddess, in Beauty at least.

But Venus, by bards young and old 'tis confest.
Was gifted with Kindness united to Beauty,

And still was her heart with this maxim imprest,
" To wound is my Fate but to heal is my Duty"

Since then the contention of charms is in vain.
The claim. Beauty cannot, let Kindness discover,

Let this be the praise, that ye strive to obtain.

Who soonest shall grant the fond suit of her lover.



11

Thus who will be Venus will be a plain case,

The point to decide with success I've been trying :

Each nymph that is prudish shall be but a Grace,
And the nymph shall be Venus that's kind and com-
plying. > .^;.i. ,;;. - '-;.



Miss Betsi/ , one of the sisters, having afterwards

married a gentleman concerned in Iron-works, the
following epigrammatical verses were written on the
occasion.

Upon my soul, when I advised

One o^ you four to copy Venus,
Sweet Betsy ! I had ne'er surmised

You'd form this misconstruction heinous.

Was there, alas ! no other way

You could the goddess imitate,
c 2



12

Than in what most her folly lay,
Her choice preposterous of a mate.

But since 'tis past, I'll still rejoice.

If you the copy still pursue,
Resembling Venus in her choice.

And treatment of her chosen too.

In decking heads* much time you've spent
'Tis well that business follow now.

And don't forget what ornament
Your Venus placed on Vulcan's brow.



* The lady was a milliner.



13



ON



THE DEATH



MISS F. 's LOVER.



The youth of Pelaw's verdant plain
To fate resigns his struggling breath ;

Each friend, in pity's bitter strain,
Laments the untimely stroke of death.

But, oh ! his Fanny's tender heart

Feels the keen pang that's felt by few ;

For, wounded by a double dart.

She weeps her friend and lover too.



u

Sorrowing she mourns his early doom,
His truth, his wonderous worth recalls.

And o'er fair Merit's hallowed tomb
The lovely tear of Beauty falls.

The tear of beauty falls yet still
Not even that tear shall aught avail ;

It cannot thaw death's icy chill :
It cannot wake the slumberer pale.

Still, pensive mourner ! let it flow,
Spread sorrow's langour o'er ihy face :

Thy charms, thus softened, sweeter grow.
And from Affliction borrow Grace.

Lamented shade! though pleasure's hour,
To thee, yet scarce begun, is o'er:

Though oii thy cheek youth's vernal flower
Just bloomecl, and closed, to bloom no more,



15

Still does thy fate my envy move,
Thou fortune's favourite still appear,

Blest, vs^hen alive, with Fanny's love.
And, dead, lamented with her tear.



e'/oJ

.-. f.



jit^fiiiv^ ^ 1 '



16



OLD AGE,

THE SEASON OF FRIENDSHIP, AND NOT OF LOVE.

AN IMITATION OF VOLTAIRE.

" Si vous voulez que j* aime encore,*' &c. &c.

If in this bosom Love you'd raise,
Love's long lost season back invite,

And to the twilight of my days
The rosy dawn of youth unite.

From scenes where Bacchus takes his stand>
And Venus fires the youthful heart,

Time, seizing on my withered hand,
And frowning, warns me to depart.



17

Against the terrors of his rage

My drooping soul let reason steel ;

Who wants the spirit of his age

Must all his age's evils feel. ' ' ".^

Let youth enjoy the smiles of fate,
The yielding fair, the sparkling glasis ;

Two moments form our mortal date :
Let one to wisdom sacred pass.

But fly ye to return no more?

Illusions ! Follies ! Love ! and Joy !
Celestial gifts ! of genial power

Life's sharpest sorrows to destroy.

Twice do we die, so fate decrees :
To cease to love, and to be loved,

Is death and worse than death ; to cease
To live is what I'll bear unmoved.



18

Thus, trembling with awakened fire,
The loss of youthful joys I mourned,

And to the paths of fond desire

My wandering soul again returned ;

When, lo ! to soothe my troubled mind,
Frietidship descended from above.

As sweet, as tefider, and as kind.

But charmed but ravished, less than Love.

Pleased with her beauties as she stept.
Struck with her splendour as she shone,

Friendship I followed but I wept,
Now forced to follow her alone.



ij-



19



TO

MRS. C ,

.ON HER

, lifc OJ Ihv

PESIRIN6 T6 SBESOME OF THE

AUTHOR'S VERSES.



Urge, urge no more the vain request,
Resolved to shun the alarming test,
I'll, wisely, to thy sight refuse
The weak productions of my muse.
Soon would thy penetrating eye
Defects unnumbered there descry.
No beauties note ; my feeble lays

Would claim thy pity, not thy praise.
J)2



20

For shouldest thou see, that there I aim
To catch imagination's flame.
Triumphantly to move along
With all the pomp of lofty song,
Alas ! with such superior sway
Thy happier genius wings its way,
So bright thy fancy's given to shine,
Thou'lt pity sure a nmse like mine*

Or, humbler, should I strive to gain
Applause from humour's sportive strain :
In playful stile attempt to please,
And aim at elegance and ease,
Alas ! what can I thus submit ?
Such vigour points thy livelier wit,
Such native graces still refine,
Thou'lt pity sure a zoit like mine.

But should my pensive lays disclose
Some mournful lover's hidden woes,



21

The troubled mind, the bleeding heart
Transfixed with passion's keenest dart,
While, cursed, he views his fair one's charms
With rapture crown another's arms,
Alas ! with hopeless grief, he'd pine :
Thou wouldest not pity z&oes like mine.



22



THE



RELAPSE.

A SLAVE to Celia's charms, I saw
My fond affection fruitless prove.

No more shall Venus give me law :
No more, O Cupid! will I love.

Yet I was born to feel thy dart,
But now the dear delusion's o'er :

Thy reign is gone, my foolish heart
Would love too much Fll love no more.



23

The godhead cried, " What servile fear !

" Weak mortal see, thy soul to move,
" Three graces joined in one appear."

" Child, 'tis in vain / zdll not love."

When, lo ! my Sylvia^s radiant form
Sudden my dazzled eyes explore;

She comes with beauty's every charm,
But comes too late Fll love no more.

Yes, there resides each power to please,
There graces o'er each feature rove.

There wit and temper, sense and ease.
But all are vain I will not love.

What, shall my rivals own their fire,
And prostrate at her feet adore ?

Whilst I, why still I'll but admire^
I'll surely, surely, love no more.



24

When Cupid thus his purpose pressed :
"Thy sense and reasoning I approve!

" Admire then, and in safety rest,
" For Admiration is not Love.

" What though ten thousand graces glow,
" Such as ne'er met thy eyes before,

" Though beauty, sense, all these, you know,
" Are nothing when one loves no more.

" Then see the nymph, devoid of fear :

" Myself all danger will remove,
" Each moment whispering in your ear

" At least remember not to love,*'

How could I trust such hidden guile?

Would Cupid lessen Cupid's power ?
Malicious imp ! I saw him smile

Whene'er I said /'// love no more.



25

Even from that day, to danger blind,
Heedless, to meet my fate I move.-

T see thee, charmer ! but I find
To see thee is alas! to love.






B



.i:f;iJ
(f! t.,u.



26



THE



TRIUMPH OF BEAUTY.



J. o the singular exertions of the degant and accomplished
Georgiana, late Duchess of Devonshire, in behalf of Mr-
Fox, in the memorable contest for the representation of
the city of Westminster, in the year ITS^, his success was,
in a great degree, attributed, even by his most sanguine
admirers. In the fervour of the moment, Mr. Bedingfeld
addressed the following Ode to her Grace, and requested
her permission to publish it, which she politely declined, with
expressions of her sense of the high compliment intended
her, but that she had already heard and read so much on
the subject, he would oblige her by forbearing the publica-
tion. Her Grace's wish was, of course, complied with,
and the poem has remained unpublished, till now, when
the beauty, the orator, and the poet, are alike beyond the
reach of human eulogy and human censure, and the fleeting
politicks of that day have ceased to be interesting. Yet
whatever may be, or rather may have been, the political



m



sentiments of the reader, and however transitory the sub-
ject of this Ode, it is presumed its genuine strain of poetry
well deserves preservation.

It may not be improper to remark, that, notwithstanding
the compliments incidentally paid to Mr. Fox, the opinions
of the author on pubhc affairs were far from being in
unison with his. Lord North was, in fact, our author's
great statesman, though his famous coahtion with Mr. Fox
may be supposed to have* imparted some degree of political
purity to that gentleman ; and the editor well remembers
a discussion respecting lib lordship's merits, which lasted
the greatest part of a Christmas night, between our poet
and the late Dr. Lawrence, an eminent civilian, and a


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