Medium
Identificação
[BNP/E3, 791 – 6]
July 1907
___
Younger I affected pain[1]
And suffering as the pretence of a poet
And sorrow and my young heart did not know it
And melancholy and I was not sad
Alexander Search
No man has ever suffered more than I
Not so ignobly, nor with such intense
Horror and sorrow, nor I would fly
From mine own self. Great indeed
The grief that makes upon itself to fret
Is the grief that makes upon itself to fret
That[2] the grief that striveth to forget
(And yet forgets not) |is true misery| –
I said “I ache”, “I sound”
But never did I say this “I am mad”.
[6v]
The Door.
My dear Jones, I am in receipt
I am in receipt of your letter {…} count, I am in receipt
I am in receipt
There is subtle meaning in things, a grotesque analogy in the disparity between their souls whereat our reason is with fear. I am in receipt of your letter
letter
[1] pain /woe un-glad\
[2] That /Is\