Toast to the Jolly Testator Revisited

Earlier on this blog, I posted a poem entitled Toast to the Jolly Testator attributed to Lord Neaves.  It now appears that there is a second part of the poem, less often reproduced, which pokes fun at the “jolly testatrix” who makes her own will.  Here is the poem in its entirety:

Ye lawyers who live upon litigants’ fees,
And who need a good many to live at your ease,
Grave or gay, wise or witty, whate’er your degree,
Plain stuff or Queen’s Counsel, take counsel of me.
When a festive occasion your spirit unbends,
You should never forget the Profession’s best friends;
So we’ll send round the wine and bright bumper fill,
To the jolly testator who makes his own will.

He premises his wish and his purpose to save
All dispute among friends when he’s laid in the grave;
Then he straightaway proceeds more disputes to create
Than a long summer’s day would give time to relate.
He writes and erases, he blunders and blots,
He produces such puzzles and Gordian knots,
That a lawyer, intending to frame the thing ill,
Couldn’t match the testator who makes his own will.

Testators are good, but a feeling more tender
Springs up when I think of the feminine gender!
The testatrix for me, who, like Telemaque’s mother,
Unweaves at one time what she wove at another;
She bequeaths, she repeats, she recalls a donation,
And ends by revoking her own revocation;
Still scribbling or scratching some new codicil,
Oh! success to the woman who makes her own will.

‘Tisn’t easy to say, ‘mid her varying vapors,
What scraps should be deemed testamentary papers.
‘Tisn’t easy from these her intention to find,
When perhaps she herself never knew her own mind.
Every step that we take, there arises fresh trouble:
Is the legacy lapsed? Is it single or double?
No customer brings so much grist to the mill
As the wealthy old woman who makes her own will.

Special thanks to L. Paul Hood, Jr. for bringing the latter verses to my attention.