regardless of conventionalism. I long to sit down and let the busy world go past. But this longing must be meant as a chastening influence. It can never be. I am chained to the wheel. I shall never lie down in the sunny grass till I lie in the churchyard.
Never come back, if you can help it. Stay where men live, and raise your hands forbiddingly against business, and thrift, and shop respectability.
Good-by to you; but write to me now and again. I have your little book of idyls. I send you a poem I read last week which was rather successful. I am,
Yours very truly,