THE LETTERS THAT COUNT.
["Meanwhile one sighs for the letters which do not exist."—C.K.S., in "The Sphere.">[
I never have felt any hunger,
Apart from my shortage of gold,
For the spoils of the autograph-monger,
The screeds of the sages of old;
By envy unvexed and unsmitten
I study the connoisseur's list,
But I sigh for the letters unwritten,
Or those that no longer exist.
The notes, for example, that Hector
Despatched to his Andromache,
When, tied to a troublesome sector,
He couldn't get home to his tea;
Or the messages CÆSAR kept sending
To pacify QUEEN CLEOPAT,
When, simply from fear of offending
The mob, he avoided her flat.
But even more impetus giving,
More apt to inspire and refresh,
Are the letters addressed to the living
By writers no more in the flesh—
The epistles to WILCOX from SHELLEY,
From LANDOR to Mrs. JOHN LANE,
From SWIFT to Miss MARIE CORELLI,
From POPE to Sir THOMAS HALL CAINE;
The instructions to NORTHCLIFFE from BONEY,
The comments of SHAKSPEARE on SHAW,
COLUMBUS'S hints to MARCONI,
TOM HUGHES'S to young ALEC WAUGH,
Or a letter to cheer her supporter
In CHARLOTTE'S own delicate fist,
Enclosing her photo to SHORTER—
A letter which does not exist.
For relics of this sort I hanker,
For these, when they're offered for sale,
I will beg overdrafts from my banker
And bid on a liberal scale;
For the arts of the DOYLES and the LODGES
Are bound to contribute new grist
To SOTHEBY'S mills and to HODGE'S
In the letters which do not exist.