His last coming to Amherst was after his memory became enfeebled, which
made it necessary for his daughter to travel with him, and the Hotel
seemed a more suitable place for him. The matter which he read ^at this time was
as ever, unique, and original, he was Emerson still, meandering through
prose and poetry, Heathen and Oriental Proverbs, "old saws, and modern insta
instances", in illustration of his old, and yet fresh, if re-iterated thought.
But the golden bowl was broken, "one felt the shadow of the cold gradations
of decay", something had gone.- one ^we could have wept.
^{flesh + spirit rebelled -}

"Nature who lost, cannot remake him
Fate let him fall
Fate ca'nt retake him".