My own dear Anne

I don’t know how to write or how to think, it all came in one together for your letter of the 20th had been round to James and then home, and it was a note from Mary Coleridge, written on the 23d that told the reality and the first thing I had opened was a note from poor Johnnie all about his botanical prize and Domum. Oh those boys - one knows ... continue reading

My dear Marianne Things have gone on well and quietly; I only wonder what I am that I seem to have no breakdown in me, but cannot help feeling for ever that the ‘Ephphatha is sung’when I think of the frowning look with which she would try to make us understand her, and that struggle to say words of praise, ‘glorify’ so often coming. You cannot think how her work, the illuminated ‘Holy, Holy, Holy,’ and ... continue reading