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Letter to Lucy Pennsylvanian earth resembles us— red flesh veiny with water, perfused with motion & stirred by all the quirky Energies of life, ours or a windy marsh with bitterns and ducks—that's a business fit for a man like myself, strong & quick as you can find, Lucy, and not to be found much longer in the pestilent port of New York as apprentice-clerk in a commercial house. I did not realize how dearly I would detest it, seventy-five thousand persons calling one place home! & me a merchant! My life has not subdued itself to Indigo & wine. Thoughts of thee were like the silver thread I tied last spring around the phoebe's leg, knotted loose to cause no injury but to hold forever. & soon I will return from a year of scribbling bad english in a dim room to show your father my worth. My sum would be no greater for any more of that. One year given him, Love, I offer you the rest. 15 ...

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