As I read it in the white, morning sunlight,
The letters squirmed like snakes.
"Any answer, Madam?" said my footman.
"No," I told him.
. . . . . . .
In Summer and in Winter I shall walk
Up and down
The patterned garden paths
In my stiff, brocaded gown.
The squills and daffodils
Will give place to pillared roses, and to asters, and to snow.
I shall go
Up and down,
In my gown.
Gorgeously arrayed,
Boned and stayed.
And the softness of my body will be guarded from embrace
By each button, hook, and lace.
For the man who should loose me is dead,
Fighting with the Duke in Flanders,
In a pattern called a war.
Christ! What are the patterns for?
Miss Lowell lived abroad for many years upon the completion of her school life, but it was not until 1902, upon her return to the family homestead in Brookline, that she began to seriously study the technique of poetry. Then followed eight years of preparation, described by Mr. Hunt as "a solitary and faithful apprenticeship, reading the masters, learning the technique of poetry, and developing her genius by
