December 1879

Dear friend,

Brabantio's Gift was not more fair than your's, though I trust with- out his pathetic inscription - "Which but thou hast already, with all my Heart I would keep from thee" - Of Poe, I know too little to think -Hawthorne appalls, entices-

Mrs Jackson soars to your estimate lawfully as a Bird, but of Howells and James, one hesitates-Your relentless Music dooms as it redeems -

Remorse for the brevity of a Book is a rare emotion, though fair as Lowell's "Sweet Despair" in the Slipper Hymn-

One thing of it we borrow
And promise to return-
The Booty and the Sorrow
It's Sweetness to have known-
One thing of it we covet-
The power to forget-
The Anguish of the Avarice
Defrays the Dross of it-

Your Scholar-