If the same star our fates together bind, Why are we thus divided, mind from mind? If the same law one grief to both impart, How couldst thou grieve a trusting mother's heart? Our aspiration seeks a common aim; Why were we tempered of such differing frame? But 'tis too late to turn this wrong to right; Too cold, too damp, too deep, has fallen the night. And yet, the angel of my life replies, Upon that night a morning star shall rise, Fairer than that which ruled thy temporal birth, Undimmed by vapors of the dreamy earth. It says, that, where a heart thy claim denies, Genius shall read its secret ere it flies; The earthly form may vanish from thy side, Pure love will make thee still the spirit's bride. And thou, ungentle, yet much loving child, Whose heart still shows the "untamed haggard wild," A heart which justly makes the highest claim, Too easily is checked by transient blame. Ere such an orb can ascertain its sphere, The ordeal must be various and severe; My prayer attend thee, though the feet may fly; I hear thy music in the silent sky. LINES WRITTEN IN HER BROTHER R. F. F.'S JOURNAL. "Mark the perfect man, and behold the upright, for the end of that man is peace."--_Psalms_ xxxvii. 37. The man of heart and words sincere, Who truth and justice follows still, Pursues his way with conscience clear, Unharmed by earthly care and ill. His promises he never breaks, But sacredly to each adheres; Honor's straight path he ne'er forsakes, Though danger in the way appears. He never boasts, will ne'er deceive, For vanity nor yet for gain; All that he says you may believe; For worlds he would not conscience stain. If he desires what others do, And they deserve it more than he, He gives to them what is their due, Happy in his humility. Not to his friends alone he's kind, But his foes too with candor sees; Not to their good intentions blind, Though hopeless their dislike t' appease. His eyes are clear, his hands are pure, To God it is his constant prayer That, be he rich or be he poor, He never may wrong actions dare. If rich, he to the suffering gives All he can spare, and thinks it just, That, since he by God's bounty lives, He should as steward hold his trust. If poor, he envies not; he knows How covetousness corrupts the heart, Whatever a just God bestows Receiving as his proper part. O Father, such a man I'd be; Like him would act, like him would pray: Lead me in truth and purity To win thy peace and see thy day. ON A PICTURE REPRESENTING THE DESCENT FROM THE CROSS. BY RAPHAEL.