Jury 18416 not have the phosute of tundering to pose in penson the talutation, of the season, & argic myself, of this mode of convene that you may bar seat ing them, and experesting, a sin= nvrying Many happy returns. of the Fav Maly of Grived lock & Merman Joiger Mily of Arusten Psalm of Donk beautered Deart! he jewel of the just! nowhere, but in the dark Shining What mysteries do lie beyond thy dull .... as well as valuable, in his unfolding. Margaret Fuller thanks you for your account of Platen; and wishes further to ask you to send her a copy of the Vol. III of Eckermann's "Conversations with Goethe," which you announced. I will pay your brother for it. You have kindly offered to buy for me books or drawings, but I shall not give you that trouble. I read little & not adventurously, but mostly in old & proven books. You shall see & hear for me, and tell me what is the hope of the new mines. Meantime I shall make an experiment on the two new books you have sent me, or at least in person on Theodore Mundt. Mr. Mann was to go to Berlin directly, & take on Dials to you. I am sorry, he has changed his plan, & goes slower. In all good hope & assurance, Your friend R. W. EMERSON VI HENRY W. LONGFELLOW1 A PSALM OF DEATH Dear, beauteous Death! the jewel of the just! What mysteries do lie beyond thy dust, Could man outlook that mask! -Henry Vaughan. He gazed at the flowers with tearful eyes, He kissed their drooping leaves; It was for the Lord of Paradise He bound them in his sheaves. 1 Longfellow's poem The Reaper and the Flowers as originally published in the Knickerbocker Magazine, carried the subtitle A Psalm of Death and was introduced by the lines here printed in italic. These lines are taken from the fifth stanza of the poem by Henry Vaughan, entitled They Are All Gone into the World of Light. See The Poems of Henry Vaughan, edited by E. K. Chambers (London and New York, 1896), p. 182. ATLANTIS HARRY NOYES PRATT I Here where once Atlantis stood, Town and temple, cliff and woodWhere the golden valleys spread Hill to hill, where roadways led White and gleaming to the strand That encircled the loved landHere where once Atlantis rose, Now the covering ocean flows. Screaming sea gulls circling flock Here above its sunken rock. Deep beneath the water's might, II On the ways where chariots gleamed, Of those priests who worshipped there. Rises still above the slime Waiting on its bidden time. III I was High Priest in the ancient worship; I passed you at dawn each morning From the palace to the temple. On the hill that faced the east I stood alone by the altar, I who was High Priest, While you with a thousand others I sought you out, and led you I sinned in my love-I, the High Priest, I sinned with the gods' handmaid. |