We wont fatigue

the Fairy Scribe

with a farther

Letter, but only

ask that question

small, ever to

us great,

how is the Mama?

We hope the

March Winds

may not find

her in her dear

Retreat, for their

ferocious ways

would certainly

appall her –

 ¦

We trust the lovely

Invalid is growing

every Day, not in

Grace but Vigor,

the latter Foliage

needed more –

I have seen

one Bird and

part of another –

probably the last,

for Gibraltar’s

Feathers would

be dismayed by

this savage Air –

beautiful, too, en-

snaring – as Spring

always is –

″Though he slay

 ¦

me, yet will

I trust him,  

Commending the

Birds of which

I spoke, to your

Hearts and Crumbs,

Lovingly,

Emily –