winter 1873?

TO: Louise and Frances Norcross
FROM: ED

. . . I know I love my friends - I feel it far in her where neither blue nor black eye goes, and fingers cannot reach. I know 'tis love for them that sets the blister in my throat, many time a day, when winds go sweeter than their wont, or a different cloud puts my brain from home.

I can not see my soul, but know 'tis there -
Nor ever say his house, nor furniture -
Who has invited me with him to dwell;
But a confiding guest, consult as well,
What raiment honor him the most,
That I be adequately dressed -
For he insures to none
Lest men specifical adorn -
Procuring him perpetual drest
By dating it a sudden feast.