Writings by Susan Dickinson: Correspondence with Bishop Huntington

	Syracuse - Oct. 13. '76. My dear Susan - Sometimes in the middle of the night, often in lonely/lovely[?] rides over hills crowned with sunlight, or in dark hallways, & in the midst of lunch/church[?]-services, or here in my cozy "study" with books for walls (or windows?) but[?] ? come of all those perfect places where we move every-day, between Holyoke & Toby. I see every curve of the outline of the first with its perfect
	grace, -- & the broad, [rarified? ?ing?] slopes of Toby, & the [? Glen?] line[?] clear beauty of Mt. Warner, & the long lines of Pelham; & the ? under ? west of the River. There are the Elms, the walnuts, the Chestnuts, each with its own shade of brown, -- the lingering leaves of the Sumach, the infinite varieties of [quinces?]. I smell[?] the breath of the [?]. There comes a shooting pang of homesickness, -- & I plunge ? into work or ? & , & get con= tented. But when you say that I might actually see all that glory with you,
	riding & ? & talking with you, -- to dispel the dream is not so easy. The homesickness stops, & will not go. -- almost any horse will do for two riders! Five minutes before I opened yr letter -- thanks for it the ?, -- I was thinking I w'd certainly write to-day to A/D[?]. & tell him the whole story of that ?-? rascal & his impu- dence; & I think I will yet. It is so ?- ?sly uncomfortable to be swindled -- But the ride, the ride! The evening is full of splendor, & there you are starting off, & the ? landscape is a pageant. What do these limitations & inabilities mean: if
Papers of Susan Dickinson, Box II, Series A, Brown University Libraries	I & not Brother Seelye was President, it w'd be Amherst officially[?] the year round! But somehow it w'd not be well[?], or else it w'd be: for I am an optimist, so far. I believe in God, & God is good: & there is no good but in Him, & of Him. -- Do you ever find a fringed gentian? If you do, keep it, for me. There is no flower that is more lovely on earth, & none that has in its bloom[?] more of Heaven: -- the year's last & sweetest blossom. I keep on writing because it is so pleasant. But I will stop, & see neither the valley nor you. But I shall try to see both in Nov. James is at home again. All are busy as bees with work & study. "In haste but most truly," F.D.H.


	Transcription and commentary copyright 1998 by Martha Nell Smith, Laura Elyn Lauth, and Lara Vetter, all rights reserved Maintained by Rebecca Mooney <rnmooney@umd.edu> Last updated on January 25, 2008