Page:The poetical works of William Blake; a new and verbatim text from the manuscript engraved and letterpress originals (1905).djvu/245

Rh For how to starve Death we had laid a plot Against his Price — but Death was in the Pot. He made them pay his Price, alackaday! He knew both Law and Gospel better than they. O that I ne'er had seen that William Blake, Or could from Death Assassinette wake ! We thought — Alas, that such a thought could be ! — That Blake would Etch for him and draw for me. For 'twas a kind of Bargain Screwmuch made That Blake's designs should be by us display 'd, Because he makes designs so very cheap. Then Screwmuch at Blake's soul took a long leap. 'Twas not a Mouse. Twas death in a disguise. And I, alas ! live to weep out my Eyes. And Death sits laughing on their Monuments On which he 's written ' Received the Contents.' But I have writ — so sorrowful my thought is — His epitaph ; for my tears are aquafortis. 'Come, Artists, knock your head against this stone, For sorrow that our friend Bob Screwmuch 's gone.' And now the Muses upon me smile and laugh I'll also write my own dear epitaph, And I'll be buried near a dyke That my friends may weep as much as they like: ' Here lies Stewhard the Friend of all &c.'