Part 35 (2/2)

In the one Truth, each separate fact is true; Eternally in one I many view, And destinies through destiny pursue.

This is _my_ tendency; but can I say That this my thought leads the true, only way?

I only know it constant leads, and I obey.

I only know one prayer--”Give me the truth, Give me that colored whiteness, ancient youth, Complex and simple, seen in joy and ruth.

Let me not by vain wishes bar my claim, Nor soothe my hunger by an empty name, Nor crucify the Son of man by hasty blame.

But in the earth and fire, water and air, Live earnestly by turns without despair, Nor seek a home till home be every where!”

A GREETING.

Thoughts which come at a call Are no better than if they came not at all; Neither flower nor fruit, Yielding no root For plant, shrub, or tree.

Thus I have not for thee One good word to say, To-day, Except that I prize thy gentle heart, Free from ambition, falsehood, or art, And thy good mind, Daily refined, By pure desire To fan the heaven-seeking fire: May it rise higher and higher; Till in thee Gentleness finds its dignity, Life flowing tranquil, pure and free, A mild, unbroken harmony.

LINES TO EDITH, ON HER BIRTHDAY.

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_ x.x.xvii. 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.

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