FRAGMENT 6.

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 o'erflowing bowls

Thousands who thirst for thine ambrosial dew;—

Thou art the radiance which where ocean rolls

Investeth it; and when the heavens are blue

Thou fillest them; and when the earth is fair

The shadow of thy moving wings imbue

Its deserts and its mountains, till they wear

Beauty like some light 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? the darts

Of the keen winter storm, barbed with frost,

Which, from the everlasting snow that parts

The Alps from Heaven, pierce some traveller lost

In the wide waved interminable snow

Ungarmented,...