EDITH.
243
camping out at night beneath the stars, would have given an interlude of such value to my existence. I shall not see the Pictured Rocks, their chapels and urns. It did not depend on me; it never has, whether such things shall be done or not.
My friends! may they see, and do, and be more, especially those who have before them a greater number of birthdays, and of a more healthy and unfettered existence:
| 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 could'st 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 the 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; |
