And thou hast missed a warm caress, And wept its loss, I know, For we were joined as flowers that spring From the same root below; The early sunbeam as it stole Across our quiet room, Seemed to thy tearful eyes to wear An all unwonted gloom. And low winds seemed with mournful wail The forest leaves to thrill, As memory whispered that thou hadst A vacant place to fill. But we have loved as few can love, For years, through storm and shine, And though our paths lie separate now, Thy heart still clings to mine. By childhood’s smiles and youth’s gay dreams, By memories of the dead, By the stern discipline of grief, My soul to thine is wed: Links as eternal as the prayer We used to breathe at even, As ever-during as the vow That binds us unto Heaven. Then blessings on thee, dearest one, My heart leaps o’er the sea; I feel thy breath upon my cheek, May God watch over thee. * * * * * TASTE. BY MISS AUGUSTA C. TWIGGS. This seems a little word, while we repeat it less than one second of time is consumed, yet in its signification it is a great word—a word of vast and unmeasured import: By it we understand a just appreciation of the good, the beautiful, the pleasant, the worthy and the useful: Still it is not alike to all: Tastes differ with characters, and characters with men. By an all wise Creator was this so ordained, and in every thing we see the wisdom and the beauty of His system. Suppose, for instance, we pass in fancy around this vast globe, as we progress onward, countries, climates, men and characters undergo every conceivable grade of change. Gradually we pass from regions inhabited by enlightened men—men of learning and deep research, men to whom Science seems to have lent her very self, until we come to a race of beings between whom and the brute creation there is scarcely a demarcation: Yet each and every one of these thousands upon thousands of countless beings has his own peculiar sphere of action, and his own especial tastes, adapted to his position and circumstances. Taste may, however, be improved or debased, elevated to the highest appreciations, the noblest conceptions, or lowered to the most sordid views, the most groveling level, and this is left to man himself—to rise or fall, to sink or soar, is left to his own choice, and is within his own power.