.MTIzMg.OTc0MTE

(Diagram of house) What you think on it There is a darling piece of poetry in my March Repositry that I want to send you I do not know enough to judge of its mento as a composition but I know tis' just the song I'd write, an I could. Do you poetry any now a days Lucy, or was you Farewell to the muses a real meant to be farewell. Isn't my Prairie flower a fine subject for (not clairvoyance) but for, for - I can't think of any pretty word to put there, but you know what I mean, for you to poesy about. But here is what I like so well

"Yes, sister, I am happy How can I but be happy? For Heaven upon my path There's a merry little sprite, Has scattered all the treasures Whose fond caress awakes me. Affections garner hath; With the early morning light; And the sweet and thrilling music She brings her white arms round me, That I best love to hear And, with a joy half wild, The tones of love and tenderness- I press her closely to my heart- Are thrilling in my ear. My own, my darling child

---

------------------------------------------------------------

How can I but be happy How can I but be happy! There's a bright and earnest eye Whose glance to me seems brighter There are loved ones far away, Than a starbeam from on high; Where the mingled lights & shadows And that is getting ever Oer the green valleys play; Oh! So tenderly, on fire; And, tho in their dear presence And I never, never look in vain, I often long to be, The lovelight there to see I know that in their far off home How can I but be happy? They often think of me There's a voice whose every tone ------------------------------------------------------------ Can make within my spirit Sweet music all it's own And that voice is ever near me, There, I suppose you rather I'd copy than To counsel and to cheer to send blank paper. Forgive me for neglecting Breathing quiet words of love and trust you so long, but I've so many works to do Into my listening ear He get some eatables cooked and think He have

                                                                                                            a fine time to write and read and mend and
                                                                                                            make, when bounce will come some men for dinner
                                                                                                            or worse for supper, lodging & breakfast, then action
                                                                                                            fond dream of delight it evaporates in tobacco
                                                                                                            smoke the . The circuit minister came yesterday I
                                                                                                            just had to drop my pen to take a farewell shake.

My love to Almeda Mr Haskell is jabbering over a message to Sam & Lucy about love, and driving business to support his wife & baby and promises to write a whole letter by himself Goodbye