SENTIMENTS FOR THE STAGE.
FOR A BRITISH TAR.
The lubber who would strike a lovely woman in distress is unworthy of the name of T. P. Cooke.
FOR A PRIMA DONNA.
Ah, Ferdinand! when treading the field of battle, when reaping laurels for thy noble brow; when in the hour of triumph or of revelry, thou art far from her who loves thee, still thou wilt think of Carolina, and madly recollect, "She wore a wreath of roses." Sings—
"She wore a wreath of roses."
FOR LORD COLLINGWOOD AT ASTLEY'S.
Go, tell Admiral Tomkins to spare no time in bringing the enemy's ships to surrender! Go, tell Ensign Sir Hildebrand Smith instantly to board the 90-gun frigate; and let the memorable words of our noble admiral ring with electric shouts through the entire British fleet, that "England expects every man this day will do his duty."
FOR A HEROINE OF DOMESTIC DRAMA.
Take thy gold, base lord, and know that the heart which truly loves, though beating in the humble breast of a housemaid, would sooner die on the rack of the Inquisition first, than wear the velvet robe of infamy. From my heart I spurn you.—[Throws purse at his feet.]
FOR A GENEROUS BROKER.
Come dry up your tears, Missus; and as long as I have a crust, or a roof, in the house, you are welcome to share it with me—for the man who is not affected when a lovely woman cries is a heartless wretch, who deserves to walk through life branded with infamy.
FOR A CONSCIENCE-STRICKEN STEWARD.
Ah! that picture. It reminds me of a long-lost daughter. In moments of darkness it has smiled upon me, and seemed to say, "True happiness is in our own minds. It is not purchased by riches, or dependent on fraud. It is only acquired by virtue, but shrinks abashed from vice." Ah! the picture smiles again! The eyes beam on me—the nostrils dilate—the mouth speaks—everything counsels me to be good. Yes! I will return my ill-begotten wealth, and henceforth strive to become that noblest work of Nature, an honest man.—[Falls down before the picture and weeps.]
THE DAY AFTER—"St. Patrick's Day in the morning."