A bridegroom withered in love'i prime ,
A father heirless out of time;
Dissolv'd by one dismaying stroke,
The filial tie, and nuptial yoke.
Cold is her heart so lately warm,
That now the colder urn incloses;
And stretched at length the fairest form
That now in coffin'd shroud reposes.
Oh ever loved ! too early fled—
Thus numbered with the silent dead;
And with thee gone, from earth beguiled,
Our infant hope, thy cherub child!
Britannia, for her first born dead,
Refuses to be comforted !
But what is life ?
'Tis not to stalk about, and draw fresh air From time to time, or gaze upon the sun; 'Tis to be free. When liberty is gone, Life grows insipid, and has lost its relish.
Addison.
A Man can never be respectable in the eyes of the world, or in his own, except so far as he stands by himself, and is truly independent. He may have friends, he may have domestic connexions, but he must not in these connexions, lose his individuality. Nothing truly great was ever achieved that was not planned or executed in solitary l
