Many tributes of esteem, both in prose and verse, were paid to Bloomfield during his life and after his death. None of these was of more value than the brief sentence written by his constant friend and first literary patron, Mr. Capel Lofft, who says, "It is much to be a poet, such as he will be found: it is much more to be such a man." The lines which appeared in _Blackwood's Magazine_, the month after Bloomfield's death, exactly describe the chief features of the poet's life and work: "No pompous learning--no parade Of pedantry, and cumbrous lore, On thy elastic bosom weighed; Instead, were thine a mazy store Of feelings delicately wrought, And treasures gleaned by silent thought. Obscurity, and low born care, Labor, and want--all adverse things, Combined to bow thee to despair; And of her young untutored wings To rob thy genius. 'Twas in vain: With one proud soar she burst her chain! The beauties of the building spring; The glories of the summer's reign; The russet autumn triumphing In ripened fruits and golden grain; Winter with storms around his shrine, Each, in their turn, were themes of thine. And lowly life, the peasant's lot, Its humble hopes and simple joys; By mountain-stream the shepherd's cot, And what the rustic hour employs; White flocks on Nature's carpet spread; Birds blithely carolling o'erhead; These were thy themes, and thou wert blessed-- Yes, blessed beyond the wealth of kings. Calm joy is seated in the breast Of the rapt poet as he sings, And all that Truth or Hope can bring Of Beauty, gilds the muse's wing. And, Bloomfield, thine were blissful days, (If flowers of bliss may thrive on earth); Thine were the glory and the praise Of genius linked with modest worth; To wisdom wed, remote from strife, Calmly passed o'er thy stormless life." During the lifetime of Bloomfield, another young and obscure poet, Henry Kirke White of Nottingham, was indebted to Bloomfield's patrons, Mr. Lofft and Robert Southey, for his introduction to the public. After reading "The Farmer's Boy" and "Rural Tales," White wrote the following clever epigram, the sentiment of which all admirers of the shoemaker-poet will heartily indorse: "Bloomfield, thy happy omened name Ensures continuance to thy fame; Both sense and truth this verdict give, While fields shall bloom, thy name shall live." CHAPTER VI. [Illustration: SAMUEL DREW, M.A.] Samuel Drew, THE METAPHYSICAL SHOEMAKER. "Secure to yourself a livelihood independent of literary success, and put into this lottery only the overplus of time. Woe to him who depends wholly on his pen! Nothing is more casual. The man who makes shoes is sure of his wages: the man who writes a book is never sure of anything.--_Marmontel_.