Dorothy Wordsworth 



IN A LEGTTER TO COLERIDGE 



YES, do you send me a book for 

 my birthday. Not a bargain book, 

 bought from a haberdasher, but 

 a beautiful book, a book to caress 

 peculiar, distinctive, individual: a book 

 that hath first caught your eye and then 

 pleased your fancy, written by an author 

 with a tender whim, a a right out of his 

 heart. We will read it together in the 

 gloaming, and when the gathering dusk 

 doth blur the page, we '11 sit with hearts 

 too full for speech and think it over. 



