Writings by Susan Dickinson

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Dec. 19. '95 -

My dear Susan -

The air is so thick
with things + people +
cares and duties or goings +
comings, between now + Xmas,
that I can hardly see the
stars or hear the anthem.
But I want to make sure
of my greeting to you, +
to the two who are with you,
+ so I "take time by the forelock,-"
that bald old gentleman who,

as he had been led to
suppose, has no locks at
all, + nothing but a scythe
+ a double wine-glass with
sand in it!

If I could go to y'r
house - as I hope to when
the Clover blossoms again + the
Pelham hills are green - it
w'd not be to me as it used
to be. It is a blessing that
the mountains stand fast, their
outlines immovable, + their
arms friendly evermore. There
are not as many mistakes
in them as in our human

aims + ambitions, our erring loves +
wretched hates. And above the mountains
+ vallies, beyond their changing colors, there
are Life + Light + Love, "Eternal in the Heavens."

We seldom hear from Amherst in Hadley
except as the farmer renders his monthly
accounts. I trust all is well with you. By
God's goodness we are in health. I am able to
do all my work with endurance + with no
unusual hinderance + weariness. There is too

Papers of Susan Dickinson,
Box II, Series A,
Brown University Libraries

much travel in it, but, so far, every time I
have the pain of going away I have the pleasure of
coming home! How even hang the balances of fate!

Be kind eno' to hand this note of
affectionate remembrance to Lavinia, for I
wish her too a Xmas of peace.

With love faithfully,

F.D. Huntington

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Last updated on January 25, 2008

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