FANNY! upon thy breast I may not lie!
Fanny! thou dost hear me when I speak!
Where art thou, love?-Around I turn my eye,
And as I turn, the tear is on my cheek.
Was it a dream? or did my love behold

Indeed my lonely couch?-Methought the breath
Fann'd not her bloodless lip; her eye was cold
And hollow, and the livery of death
Invested her pale forehead.-Sainted maid,

My thoughts oft rest with thee in thy cold grave, Through the long wintry night, when wind and wave Rock the dark house where thy poor head is laid. Yet hush! my fond heart, hush! there is a shore Of better promise; and I know at last,

When the long Sabbath of the tomb is past, We two shall meet in Christ to part no more.

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.