Death springs to life:-- Though brief and sad thy story, Thy years all spent in care and gloom, Look up, look up; Eternity and glory Dawn through the portals of the tomb. VERSES TO A ROBIN RED-BREAST, WHICH VISITS THE WINDOW OF MY PRISON EVERY DAY. Welcome, pretty little stranger! Welcome to my lone retreat! Here, secure from every danger, Hop about, and chirp, and eat: Robin! how I envy thee, Happy child of Liberty! Now, though tyrant Winter, howling, Shakes the world with tempests round, Heaven above with vapours scowling, Frost imprisons all the ground: Robin! what are these to thee? Thou art bless'd with liberty. Though yon fair majestic river[70] Mourns in solid icy chains, Though yon flocks and cattle shiver On the desolated plains: Robin! thou art gay and free, Happy in thy liberty. Hunger never shall disturb thee, While my rates one crumb afford; Colds nor cramps shall ne'er oppress thee; Come and share my humble board: Robin! come and live with me-- Live, yet still at liberty. Soon shall Spring, in smiles and blushes, Steal upon the blooming year; Then, amid the enamour'd bushes, Thy sweet song shall warble clear: Then shall I, too, join with thee-- Swell the hymn of Liberty. Should some rough, unfeeling dobbin, In this iron-hearted age, Seize thee on thy nest, my Robin, And confine thee in a cage, Then, poor prisoner! think of me-- Think, and sigh for liberty. [70] The Ouse. SLAVERY THAT WAS. Ages, ages have departed, Since the first dark vessel bore Afric's children, broken-hearted, To the Caribbéan shore; She, like Rachel, Weeping, for they were no more. Millions, millions, have been slaughter'd, In the fight and on the deep; Millions, millions more have water'd, With such tears as captives weep, Fields of travail, Where their bones till doomsday sleep. Mercy, Mercy, vainly pleading, Rent her garments, smote her breast, Till a voice from Heaven proceeding, Gladden'd all the gloomy west,-- "Come, ye weary, Come, and I will give you rest!" Tidings, tidings of salvation! Britons rose with one accord, Purged the plague-spot from our nation, Negroes to their rights restored; Slaves no longer, _Freemen,--freemen_ of the _Lord_. ANDREW SCOTT.