"Paused in yon waves her mighty horns to wet,
How in those beams we walked, half resting on the sea?
'Tis just one year-sure thou dost not forget-

"Then Plato's words of light in thee and ne
Lingered like moonlight in the moonless east,
For we had just then read-thy memory

"Is faithful now-the story of the feast; And Agathon and Diotima seemed

From death and [

] released..

FRAGMENT III.

'Twas at the season when the Earth upsprings
From slumber, as a sphered angel's child,
Shadowing its eyes with green and golden wings,

Stands up before its mother bright and mild,
Of whose soft voice the air expectant seems-
So stood before the sun, which shone and smiled

To see it rise thus joyous from its dreams,
The fresh and radiant Earth. The hoary grove
Waxed green-and flowers burst forth like starry beams ;-

The grass in the warm sun did start and move,
And sea-buds burst under the waves serene :
How

many a one, though none be near to love,
Loves then the shade of his own soul, half seen
In any mirror-or the spring's young minions,
The winged leaves amid the cop-es green;—

How many a spirit then puts on the pinions
Of fancy, and outstrips the lagging blast,
And his own steps-and over wide dominions

Sweeps in his dream-drawn chariot, far and fast,
More fleet than storms-the wide world shrinks below,
When winter and despondency are past.

'Twas at this season that Prince Athanase

Past the white Alps-those eagle-baffling mountains
Slept in their shrouds of snow ;-beside the ways

The waterfalls were voiceless-for their fountains
Were changed to mines of sunless crystal now,
Or by the curdling winds-like brazen wings

Which clanged along the mountain's marble brow,
Warped into adamantine fretwork, hung
And filled with frozen light the chasm below.

FRAGMENT IV.

Thou art the wine whose drunkenness is all
We can desire, O Love! and happy souls,
Ere from thy vine the leaves of autumn fall,

Catch thee, and feed from their overflowing bowls
Thousands who thirst for thy ambrosial dew;-
Thou art the radiance which where ocean rolls

Investests it; and when the heavens are blue
Thou fillest them; and when the earth is fair
The shadow of thy moving wings imbue

143

Its desarts and its mountains, till they wear
Beauty like some bright robe — thou ever soarest
Among the towers of men, and as soft air

In spring, which moves the unawakened forest,
Clothing with leaves its branches bare and bleak,
Thou floatest among men; and aye implorest

That which from thee they should implore :-the weak Alone kneel to thee, offering up the hearts

The strong have broken-yet where shall any seek

A garment whom thou clothest not?

Marlow, 1817.

FINIS.

LONDON:

WILLIAM BENBOW, HIGH HOLB ORN,