To Miss Eliza Scudder.
Wayland, 1863.
Wasn't I as proud as a peacock, and did n't it make me spread all my feathers, to have a “pair oa vairses” written to me in my old age?
and such verses, too!
Seriously, dear friend, I was never so touched and so pleased by any tribute in my life.
I cried over the verses, and I smiled over them.
I
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wanted to show them to everybody; but I did n't dare to show them to anybody — they were so complimentary.
I knew I didn't deserve them; but I also knew that you thought I did, and that made me happy. 
