Sorrow is proud, and lonely, and would close
Our doors against inquirers, vainly kind;
But fear i* mean, and hungrily inclin'd
To catch at crumbs from strangers or from foes;
And it would drive us pitiably io seek
The starveling hope that common callers give :
We swallow'd greedily what they did speak,
For they were sure to say—' The child will live.'
Scott.
The day, which makes a man a slave, takes away half his worth; and he loses every incentive to action, but the base one of fear.
ON SEEING IN A LIST OF MUSIC THE " WATERLOO WALTZ."
A MOMENT pause, ye British fair,
While pleasure's phantom ye pursue, And say if sprightly dance or air, Suit with the name of " Waterloo ?" Awful was the victory, Chasten'd should the triumph be; Amidst the laurels nobly won, Britain mourns for many a son.
Veil'd in clouds the morning rose;
Nature seem'd to mourn the day, Which consign'd, before its close,
Thousands to their kindred clay :
