I wish I was where Anna lies, For I am sick of lingering here, And every hour affliction cries, “Go, and partake her humble bier.” I wish I could! For when she died I lost my all; and life has proved Since that sad hour a dreary void, A waste, unloving and unloved. Perhaps the surest testimony to the pain left in his soul by her loss is his silence in his _Autobiography_ concerning her. She--and his love and his sorrow--were too sacred to be brought before the public eye. He never mentioned her, or that he had been married, even to his best friends; and in Murray’s _Reminiscences_ it is asserted that Gifford never was married. In Lord Grosvenor’s house Gifford proceeded with his translation of _Juvenal_, that had occupied him off and on for some years. His bitter humour agreed with the biting sarcasm of the Roman poet, and the work on which he was engaged was one of love. But, previous to its publication, he hurled his _Baviad_ at the heads of the Della Cruscan school of poetasters, in 1794. The name signifies “of the Bran,” and was adopted by a literary coterie, to signify that their poetic productions were sifted, and of the purest wheat. It was a mutual admiration society, and was composed of Robert Merry, a fanatical Republican, who had married Miss Brunton, the celebrated actress, and sister of the still more celebrated Louisa, who became Countess of Craven; another member of the society was Mrs. Piozzi; others were Mrs. Robertson and Bertie Greathead. This set inundated the newspapers, magazines, and annuals with a flood of weak and watery “poetry.” As Byron says, addressing this set:-- With you I was not: Gifford’s heavy hand Has crush’d, without remorse, your numerous band. In 1795 appeared the _Mæviad_, a satire of the same class, in which, although equally personal, there was less unnecessary virulence. Following up a line of composition so congenial to his temper and talents, he published, in 1800, his _Epistle to Peter Pindar_, of which some lines are given in the article devoted to that abusive poet. This roused Wolcot to fury, and he sought out and found the rival satirist in the publisher’s shop. An amusing account of the fray is given by Mr. Moonshine, “The Battle of the Bards.” Sir Walter Scott says of it: “Though so little an athlete, he nevertheless beat off Dr. Wolcot, when that celebrated person, the most unsparing calumniator of his time, chose to be offended with Gifford for satirizing him in his turn. Peter Pindar made a most violent attack, but Gifford had the best of the affray, and remained, I think, in triumphant possession of the field of action, and of the assailant’s cane.” Scott had a high opinion of Gifford as a poet in his peculiar line. He wrote in 1805: “I have a good esteem of Mr. Gifford as a manly English poet, very different from most of our modern versifiers.”