wilderness, wrinkled brows; foldings, a host of scars. why. I longed to dwell.
It was wilderness a something of, a modern invention.
wrinkled brows, all speaking of anxiety anything.
it is the fire, arms ₁ a something of caution in the very spot
the branded impress of corroding passions. A host of scars. ₂
Why had this uncouth abode been allotted to me ?
Why not a sphere, a cube, any regular solid, smooth and hard ? ₃
a something of pyramidal shape tied up in a cambric handkerchief;
everything, in short, that a lady could require, except an umbrella ? ₄
yet we must concede that there is a something of native
grace also conspicuous. On the obverse ₅
a something of the greatest consequence Folding,
then, that triangular piece of paper many times, until ₆
Some of them are self-evident, as here;
others require a good knowledge of many things. ₅
I longed to dwell in a perfect crystal, a snowflake, a drop of dew. ₃
sources
- cross-column OCR misread (from paragraphs on the “grain cradle,” and “the wilderness”), at “Charles A. Green’s Walks and Talks with Readers,” in Green’s Fruit Grower (Rochester, N.Y., August 1915) / more
- John Treat Irving, Jun., The Hunters of the Prairie, or The Hawk Chief. A Tale of of the Indian Country. (London, 1837) / more
- Susan Taubes, Lament for Julia (1960s; NYRB 2023) : 60
aside —
there is more here from Susan Taubes than I wish/am comfortable with — but what a book it is ! - Fred Peters, “A Night on the Railway in Old England” in Western Literary Messenger (Buffalo, New York; Saturday, June 5, 1847) / more
- Walter de Gray Birch, Seals, in “The Connoisseur’s Library” (London: Methuen, 1907) / more
- ex Edith the Captive; or, The Robbers of Epping Forest. “By the author of Jane Brightwell.” [James Malcolm Rymer (1814-84)] (London, 1861) / more