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|Letter Reference||Edward Carpenter 359/12
|Archive||Sheffield Archives, Archives & Local Studies, Sheffield
|Letter Date||Saturday 10 September 1887
|Address From||50 Gore Road, Hackney, London
|Who To||Edward Carpenter
The manuscript of this letter by Olive Schreiner belongs to the Archive referenced above; its ownership of the original should be acknowledged by referencing the letter as indicated: Copyright transcription: © Olive Schreiner Letters Project. This transcription can be freely used as long as copyright is acknowledged and it is referenced using the following citation: ‘Olive Schreiner to Edward Carpenter, 10 September 1887, Sheffield Libraries, Archives & Information, Olive Schreiner Letters Project transcription’. Please also supply letter line numbers for specific quotations.
The Project is grateful to the Sheffield Archives, Sheffield Libraries, Archives and Information Services, for kindly allowing us to transcribe this Olive Schreiner letter, which is part of its Archive Collections. The date has been written on this letter in an unknown hand.
50 Gore Rd
Dear Edward Carpenter
I send your St. Augustine. It has been sweet to me to think you rested
8: even for one night. The face with its short beard lying right up
9: against his shoulder. When he goes & you are alone again & that
10: terrible sinking comes write & tell me please ^unreadable^. When he goes
11: away from you he always has to go back to someone else & then the
12: terrible ^sinking^ as if all the blood was going out of your body. Is it
13: really getting better? There is such a stick under stick under my
14: heart when I think of it all.
Are you working? Is that red book in the pocket getting fuller?
17: Remember you must live for that. There lies before you a fuller richer
18: period of work than any you have yet known. Sometimes I think it would
19: be best for you to go away to America & see Whitman & folks there for
20: a bit. Then I feel that if it is possible it is best for you to stay
21: just where you are, & harden. It will come right at last, at last. I
22: wish I knew all. You must be gentle to her, because its hard for her
23: too; & she hasn’t the larger things to fall back on that you have.
//I didn’t know that you & he ever came quite close to each other
26: still; I thought your life was all quite empty. I understand now,
27: better. I am thinking of you in the morning, & at evening & at night.
28: You are not many moments out of my thoughts. unreadable
Please remember me to George. No one knows I have returned to Town so
31: I’m having a good quiet time for work & my cough is better than
32: it’s been for many months.
//Did you see what old Whitman said when they showed ^told^ him ^about^
35: Swinburne’s article? "I thought Mr Swinburne liked my poetry"; -
36: nothing else! I don’t think it would be good for you to come to
37: London. Either stay just were you are or go right away to America.
38: unreadable Work will help you; nothing but work.
Good bye, your comrade
I wasn’t angry when ^you^ went away! Sometimes a great flood of
44: feeling was in me & I must either laugh or get away, or I have to give
45: way to it. It’s myself I’m angry with you know eh?
^My little unreadable had bought me a pepper pot & a mustard pot for
48: two pence. This letter doesn’t want an answer please. I’m not
49: going to let any one know I’m in town, & I’m going to work so
50: splendidly here in my little room. Good bye brother. Don’t write,
51: except just a card when you want to unreadable^
Far away, where the tempests play,
Over the dreary seas,
Sail or still, with a strong ^steady^ will,
On-ward before the breeze.
On, onwards yet,
Till our hearts forget
The loves that we leave behind:
Till the memories ?clear
that thrill in our ear
Flow past like the whistling wind.
Let them come, sweet
thoughts of home,
And voices we loved of old;
What care we that sail a sea,
And bound for a Land of Gold?
Treasures there are that are lovelier far,
Than the flash of a maiden’s eye;
Jewels bright as the purple light,
That crimsons the evening sky;
Crowns that gleam
like a fairy dream,
Th Treasure of price untold!
And we, are bound for
that charmed ground;
We, sail for a land
I fear it’s too irregular to be put to any music. I don’t know who
88: it’s by & I’m not sure whether I’ve not intro ^duced some
89: variations!!^ I found it in a book when I was a little child unreadable.
The particular article by Swinburne cannot be established either. The poem quoted is a version of W.E. Littlewood's 'To the Land of Gold' in Loomis J. Campbell (ed.) (1880) Young Folks’ Book of Poetry
Boston: Lee and Shepard Publishers.