Fragments

1



O'er the raised earth the gales of evening sigh;

And, see, a daisy peeps upon its slope!

I wipe the dimming waters from mine eye;

Even on the cold grave lights the Cherub Hope.





2



Sea-ward, white gleaming thro' the busy scud

With arching Wings, the sea-mew o'er my head

Posts on, as bent on speed, now passaging

Edges the stiffer Breeze, now, yielding, drifts,

Now floats upon the air, and sends from far

A wildly-wailing Note.