late September 1882

Dear Friend,

That without suspecting it you should send me the preferred flower of life, seems almost supernatural, and the sweet glee that I felt at meeting it, I could confide to none. I still cherish the clutch with which I bore it from the ground when a wondering Child, an unearthly booty, and maturity only enhances mystery, never decreases it. To duplicate the Vision is almost more amazing, for God's unique capacity is too surprising to surprise.

I know not how to thank you. We do not thank the Rainbow, although it's Trophy is a snare.

To give delight is hallowed - perhaps the toil of Angels, whose avocations are concealed -

I trust that you are well, and the quaint little Girl with the deep Eyes, every day more fathomless.

With joy,

E. Dickinson.