432 A FRAGMENT. 



and made part of an adjoining field. My brother, who usually visited 

 that town twice a year for a considerable time afterwards, always 

 found a warm reception from the magistrate and the principal inha- 

 bitants of the place ; and it was through the interest of the former 

 that I obtained the living, and have preached so long in that very 

 church which formed so prominent an object in the landscape of my 

 brother's strange adventure." F. 



A FRAGMENT. 



I. 



I NE'ER may mark the spot where thou dost lie ; 



Upon a mountain's brow they've raised thy tomb, 

 In a far land beneath a southern sky, 



And shrubs, they say, around, and flowrets bloom 

 In rich profusion. And the red round sun, 

 When o'er the heavens his proud career is run, 

 Doth pour his tend'rest splendours o'er the sod, 



And hallow it with loveliness most sweet : 

 But ah ! by foreign foot that turf is trod ; 



And foreign eyes those touching hues must meet. 



II. 

 At the deep midnight hour I think of thee, 



When roll the stars upon their silent course, 

 When the deep shadows of a world to be 



Come o'er the soul with their subduing force. 

 And as I mark the countless orbs of light 

 Softening away the darkness of the night, 

 I marvel which may be thy radiant home ; 



Where in celestial beauty clad on high, 

 Thy glad voice mingles with the hosts who roam 



Those fields of light, in solemn jubilee. 



III. 

 Oh ! in that hour of dread, and doubt, and gloom, 



And solitude, and silence, when the soul 

 Would fain o'erleap the boundaries of the tomb, 



And pierce the clouds that round its empire roll ; 

 And memory, the magician, from their caves 

 Calls the pale ghosts of vanished hours, like waves 

 From the dim ocean of departed years : 



Thronging and thick athwart the aching sight 

 They come, and mock us with our hopes, our fears, 



Our smiles, our sorrows, and our earliest tears. 



IV. 

 Oh ! in that hour of watching hath the long, 



Long yearning of my over-burdened heart 

 Burst forth in words of passion wild and strong 



Oh ! come to me, my friend, where'er thou art ! 

 Come, as in other times of happiness, 

 In all thy sweetness, all thy gentleness ; 

 When thou couldst smile away my griefs, and scare 



Afar the miseries of despair and gloom, 

 And gently smooth the wrinkled brow of care ; 



Come and reveal the mysteries of the tomb ! 



