WHEN old Sam Johnson sat in state, that man of learning, wise and great, with Burke and Goldsmith and the rest, Jim Boswell was the butt and jest. They all must have their flings at Jim, and none had much respect for him. Methinks, had some prophetic dub appeared before them at their club, and said, "This man who is your goat, at whom you laugh with scornful note, will by the multitudes be read, when all your junk is stale and dead," old Sam would then have raised a roar: "Begone, false prophet—there's the door!" And yet great Johnson, mighty sage, the shining marvel of his age, lives only in the book that Jim so reverently wrote of him. Jim's immortality is sure; down to the Judgment 'twill endure, while those who jeered his little games, have left but half-forgotten names. And it may be, men now on earth, whose work we think has little worth, will leave a deathless fame behind when they have quit their humble grind, while pompous prodigies lie down, and, dying, kill off their renown. | Discover our Poem Explanations and Poet Analyses!Other Poems of Interest...AT ONE O'CLOCK IN THE MORNING by CHARLES BAUDELAIRE AT THE VILLAGE DEPOT by ELIZABETH WILCOX BEASLEY A SUNRISE IN MARCH by EDMUND CHARLES BLUNDEN THE GLORY OF ISRAEL by HARRY RANDOLPH BLYTHE THE UNFORGOTTEN by RICHARD EUGENE BURTON SECOND MARRIAGE by EMMA RIGBY COLEMAN THE PURGATORY OF SUICIDES: BOOK 7, STANZA 7 by THOMAS COOPER |