Letters to a Friend 



say or good deeds I could do, so that ravens 

 would bring me bread and venison for the next 

 two years! Then would I get some tough gray 

 clothes the color of granite, so no one could see 

 or find me [words missing] would I reproduce 

 the ancient ice-rivers and [words missing] and 

 dwell with them. I go again to my lessons to 

 morrow morning. Some snow fell, and bye-and- 

 bye I must tell you about it. 



If poor good Melancholia Cowper had been 

 here yesterday morning, here is just what he 

 would have sung: 



The rocks have been washed, just washed in a 



shower 



Which winds in their faces conveyed. 

 The plentiful cloudlets bemuffled their brows 

 Or lay on their beautiful heads. 



But cold sighed the winds in the fir trees above 



And down on the pine trees below, 



For the rain that came laving and washing in 



love 

 Was followed, alas, by a snow. 



Which, being unmetaphored and prosed into 



sense, means that yesterday morning a strong 



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