Ill 



IN OLD PONKAPOAG 



Glimpses from a Study Window of 

 Thomas Bailey Aldrich 



The study where Thomas Bailey Aldrich wrote 

 some of his daintiest verse looks forth upon a 

 sweet valley. Down this valley prattle clear-eyed 

 brooks that meet and grow, and water lush mead- 

 ows rilled with all lovely things of summer, while 

 low woods beyond set a dark green line against 

 the sunsets. Looking toward these of a day when 

 rosy mists tangle the sun's rays and anon let them 

 slip in arrow flight earthward, we have pictured 

 for us how 



"We knew it would rain, for all the morn, 

 A spirit on slender ropes of mist 

 Was lowering its golden buckets down 

 Into the vapory amethyst." 



Wherever written, this and a hundred other 

 dainty things seem to flock into the tiny valley 

 upon which he looked from the study window of 



