FRAGMENTS.

These Fragments are Henry's latest compositions; and were, for the most part, written upon the back of his mathematical papers, during the few moments of the last year of his life, in which he suffered himself to follow the impulse of his genius.

FRAGMENTS.

I.

SAW'ST thou that light? exclaim'd the youth, and paus'd:
Through yon dark firs it glanced, and on the stream
That skirts the woods it for a moment play'd.
Again, more light it gleam'd, or does some sprite
Delude mine eyes with shapes of wood and streams,
And lamp far beaming through the thicket's gloom,
As from some bosom'd cabin, where the voice
Of revelry, or thrifty watchfulness,

Keeps in the lights at this unwonted hour?

No sprite deludes mine eyes, the beam now glows
With steady lustre. Can it be the moon,

Who, hidden long by the invidious veil

That blots the Heavens, now sets behind the woods?

No moon to-night has look'd upon the sea
Of clouds beneath her, answered Rudiger,
She has been sleeping with Endymion.

II.

THE pious man,

In this bad world, when mists and couchant storms
Hide Heaven's fine circlet, springs aloft in faith
Above the clouds that threat him, to the fields
Of ether, where the day is never veil'd
With intervening vapours; and looks down
Serene upon the troublous sea, that hides
The earth's fair breast, that sea whose nether face
To grovelling mortals frowns and darkens all;
But on whose billowy back, from man conceal'd,
The glaring sunbeam plays.

III.

Lo! on the eastern summit, clad in grey,

Morn, like a horseman girt for travel, comes,
And from his tower of mist,

Night's watchman hurries down.