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; Keeps in the lights at this unwonted hour? No sprite deludes mine eyes,-the beam now glows 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 She has been sleeping with Endymion. II. The pious man, In this bad world, when mists and couchant storms III. LO! on the eastern summit, clad in grey, Morn, like a horseman girt for travel, comes; Night's watchman hurries down. IV. THERE was a little bird upon that pile; It perch'd upon a ruined pinnacle, And made sweet melody. The song was soft, yet cheerful, and most clear, For other note none swell'd the air but his. It seem'd as if the little chorister, Sole tenant of the melancholy pile, Were a lone hermit, outcast from his kind, V. O PALE art thou, my lamp, and faint When the still night's unclouded saint Through my lattice leaf-embower'd, I throw aside the learned sheet, I cannot chuse but gaze, she looks so mildly sweet. Sad vestal why art thou so fair, Or why am I so frail? Methinks thou lookest kindly on me, Moon, And cheerest my lone hours with sweet regards! Surely like me thou'rt sad, but dost not speak Thy sadness to the cold unheeding croud; So, mournfully compos'd, o'er yonder cloud Thou shinest, like a cresset, beaming far From the rude watch-tower, o'er the Atlantic wave. VI. O GIVE me music-for my soul doth faint; Hark how it falls! and now it steals along, |