第14部分(第4/6頁)

ertain　critics。

Is　it　indeed　true　that　I　was　so　near　to　the　pleasure　and　honor　of　making　your　acquaintance？　and　can　it　be　true　that　you　look　back　upon　the　lost　opportunity　with　any　regret？　But—you　know—if　you　had　entered　the　“crypt；”　you　might　have　caught　cold；　or　been　tired　to　death；　and　wished　yourself　“a　thousand　miles　off”，　which　would　have　been　worse　than　traveling　them。　It　is　not　my　interest；　however；　to　put　such　thoughts　in　your　head　about　its　being　“all　for　the　best”；　and　I　would　rather　hope　（as　I　do）　that　what　I　lost　by　one　chance　I　may　recover　by　some　future　one。　Winters　shut　me　up　as　they　do　dormouse's　eyes；　in　the　spring；　we　shall　see；　and　I　am　so　much　better　than　I　seem　turning　round　to　the　outward　world　again。　And　in　the　meantime　I　have　learnt　to　know　your　voice；　not　merely　from　the　poetry　but　from　the　kindness　in　it。　Mr。　Kenyon　often　speaks　of　you—dear　Mr。　Kenyon！—who　most　unspeakably；　or　only　speakably　with　tears　in　my　eyes；—has　been　my　friend　and　helper；　and　my　book's　friend　and　helper！　critic　and　sympathiser；　true　friend　of　all　hours！　You　know　him　well　enough；　I　think；　to　understand　that　I　must　be　grateful　to　him。

I　am　writing　too　much；—and　not　withstanding　that　I　am　writing　too　much；　I　will　write　of　one　thing　more。　I　will　say　that　I　am　your　debtor；　not　only　for　this　cordial　letter　and　for　all　the　pleasure　which　came　with　it；　but　in　other　ways；　and　those　the　highest：　and　I　will　say　that　while　I　live　to　follow　this　divine　art　of　poetry；　in　propo