Another beautiful day. I was over at my studio preparing some canvas to take to Maine and doing many things. I opened the house and let the sun shine in. This afternoon painted a little on Gertrudes portrait and improved it. Mrs. Sawyer has been turning the curtains that I had in our parlor and they are very pretty, yellow when they were blue before and so fresh as new. Wrote to Pell. My father is not at all well and it always troubles me when he is ailing. Here is a song I wrote last year and finished a few days ago. I sent it to Booth when I wrote him last.
Song of the Wilderness
Where the caribou roam,
Where the waters foam
Round the otters home,
And morning glows.
Thro' purple and rose
On Katahdins snows,
In my loneliness
In the soft caress
Of the Wilderness
Voice shalt thou be
Of the absent to me
Old friend T.D.
Where the birch glides,
Where the wood duck rides
On the answering tides
Where thro' misty miles
Millinoket smiles
To her hundred isles
While a touch I keep,
On my sorrows sleep,
Lest it wake to weep,
In my liberty
I am slave to thee
Best friend T.D.
In the starry night
By the fading light
Of the camp-fire bright
When memory clings
In her wanderings
To vanished things
And the faded gold
Which her hands unfold
To my dreams is told
Then comfort me
My solace be
Last friend T.D.
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