s
blazing upon the delicate hand which shields your face from the warm
sunlight, and as you glance around, a costly mirror reveals at full
length your graceful and yielding form.

"I have no interest in such as these," you say, as the simple
narrative is ended.

I pray, in truth, that you may never learn the harsh lessons of
adversity; but remember, as you enjoy the elegancies of a luxurious
home, that change comes to all when least expected. And if misfortune
should not spare even one so young and so beautiful; if poverty or
desolation overshadow the household, it may be your part to sustain
and to strengthen, not only by words, but by deeds. Well rewarded
should I feel, if words from this pen could aid in removing one pang,
could give a tithe of the strength of mind and heart such a lesson
would call forth. God shield you, dear lady; but if the storm come,
_remember that honest labor elevates rather than degrades_; and those
whose opinions are of value will not hesitate to confirm the truth of
the moral.

LINES TO ----.

BY W. HORRY STILWELL.

A sister's love I did not ask from thee,
Though that were much--oh, more than earth hath given;
None live to bear that gentle name for me,
Though one may lisp it now, perchance, in Heaven.
I know not even, for I never felt,
The quiet yearnings of such love as this;
Thou should'st have known a deeper feeling dwelt
In the rapt glow of that impassioned kiss!

"I had no wish a _brother's_ love to share"--
I did not read thy features dreamingly,
And peer into thine eye's deep azure, there
Searching _another's_ depths, in revery!
I did not press, all passionless, thy hand
Or idly dally with thy taper finger,
Or coldly gaze, for I could not withstand
The high and holy hope which bade me linger!

I was not thinking of _another_ then,
In thy sweet face her features imaging,
Tracing each thought-print o'er them--watching when
Hope's earnest breathings to my lips might spring;
Nor this--nor fame--though her ascending star
Might shed its glory in a halo o'er me;
No thought like this, that moment, rose to mar
The vision that in beauty stood before me!

But it was marr'd, for even then the feeling
Came o'er me, that thou never couldst be mine!
And in the cloud of sadness, gently stealing
Like a dim shadow o'er that brow of thine,