To Mrs. Joseph A. Sweetser
From ED

early spring 1884

Aunt Katie's Rose had many Thorns, but it is still a Rose, and has borne the extremities of a Flower with etherial patience, and every deference to her is so sweetly deserved, we do not call it courtesy, but only recognition. It is sweeter that Noon should be fair than that Morning should, because Noon is the latest, and yet your Morning had it's Dew, you would not exchange.

Thank you for telling us of your triumphs.

"Peace hath her Victories, no less than War."

Thank you for speaking so tenderly of our latest Lost. We had hoped the persuasions of the spring, added to our own, might delay his going, but they came too late. "I met," said he in his last Note, "a Crocus and a Snow Drop in my yesterday's walk," but the sweet Beings outlived him. I thought the Churchyard Tarrytown, when I was a Child, but now I trust 'tis Trans.

In this place of shafts, I hope you may remain unharmed.

I congratulate you upon your Children, and themselves, upon you, Mother, divine. To still have her, but tears forbid me. My own is in the Grave. "So loved her that he died for her," says the explaining Jesus.

With love,

Your Emily.