I.IFE OP 



any for sleep. He would read till one, two, three o'clock 

 in the morning ; then tiirow himself on the bed, and rise 

 again to his work at five, at the call of a larum, which 

 he had fixed to a Dutch clock in his chamber. Many 

 nights he never laid down at all. It was in vain that 

 his mother used every possible means to dissuade him 

 from this destructive application. In this respect, and 

 in this only one, was Henry undutiful, and neither com- 

 mands, nor tears, nor entreaties, could check his despe- 

 rate and deadly ardour. At one time she went every 

 night into his room, to put out his candle : as soon as he 

 heard her coming up stairs, he used to hide it in a cup- 

 board, throw himself into bed, and afi'ect sleep while she 

 was in the room ; then, when all was quiet, rise again, 

 and pursue his baneful studies. 



" The night," says Henry, in one of his letters, " has 

 been everything to me ; and did the world know how I 

 have been indebted to the hours of repose, they would 

 not wonder that night images are, as they judge, so ridi- 

 culously predominant in my verses." During some of 

 these midnight hours he indulged himself in complaining, 

 but in such complaints that it is to be wished more oi 

 them had been found among his papers. 



ODE ON DISAPPOIXTMEXT. 



Come, Disappointmerjt, co-.ne ! 



Kot in thy terrors clad : 

 Come in thy meekest, saddest guise ; 

 Thy chastening rod but terriiies 

 The restless and the bad. 

 But I recline 

 Beneath thj' shrine. 

 And round my brow resign"d, thy peaceful cypress twine. 



II. 



Though Fancy flies away 



Before thy hollow tread, 

 Yet meditation in her cell, 

 Hears with faint eye, the ling ring knell, 



That tells her hopes are dead; 



