tears desired,
        Float upward into starry space;
      Heaven, upon the suppliant wild,
        Smiles down a gracious No!—­In vain
      The strife!  Yet be consoled, poor child,
        For the wish passes with the pain.

      But when from such idolatry
        The heart has turned, and wiser grown,
      In earnestness and purity
        Would make a nobler plan its own,—­
      Yet, after all its zeal and care,
        Must of its chosen aim despair,—­
      Some bitter tears may be forgiven
        By Man, at least,—­we trust, by Heaven."’

[Footnote A:  Her eldest brother.]

BIRTH-DAY.

’May 23d, 1836.—­I have just been reading Goethe’s Lebensregel.  It is easy to say “Do not trouble yourself with useless regrets for the past; enjoy the present, and leave the future to God.”  But it is not easy for characters, which are by nature neither calm nor careless, to act upon these rules.  I am rather of the opinion of Novalis, that “Wer sich der hochsten Lieb ergeben Genest von ihnen Wunden nie.”

    ’But I will endeavor to profit by the instructions of the
    great philosopher who teaches, I think, what Christ did, to
    use without overvaluing the world.

’Circumstances have decided that I must not go to Europe, and shut upon me the door, as I think, forever, to the scenes I could have loved.  Let me now try to forget myself, and act for others’ sakes.  What I can do with my pen, I know not.  At present, I feel no confidence or hope.  The expectations so many have been led to cherish by my conversational powers, I am disposed to deem ill-founded.  I do not think I can produce a valuable work.  I do not feel in my bosom that confidence necessary to sustain me in such undertakings,—­the confidence of genius.  But I am now but just recovered from bodily illness, and still heart-broken by sorrow and disappointment.  I may be renewed again, and feel differently.  If I do not soon, I will make up my mind to teach.  I can thus get money, which I will use for the benefit of my dear, gentle, suffering mother,—­my brothers and sister.  This will be the greatest consolation to me, at all events.’

DEATH IN LIFE.

’The moon tempted me out, and I set forth for a house at no great distance.  The beloved south-west was blowing; the heavens were flooded with light, which could not diminish the tremulously pure radiance of the evening star; the air was full of spring sounds, and sweet spring odors came up from the earth.  I felt that happy sort of feeling, as if the soul’s pinions were budding.  My mind was full of poetic thoughts, and nature’s song of promise was chanting in my heart.

’But what a change when I entered that human dwelling!  I will try to give you