Dr. V. was told of her poems on the fear of death.
Dr. V.—“What do you think of the attempts to investigate you? Is it right?”
Patience.—“Ayea. And thou hast o’ me the loaf o’ the me o’ me, and thou hast o’ it afar more than thou hast o’ thy brother o’ earth, and yet they seek o’ me and seek ever.”
Dr. V.—“Have you ever lived?”
Patience.—“What! Think ye that I be a prater o’ thy path and ne’er atrod? Then thou art afollied, for canst thou tell o’ here?”
Dr. V.—“When did you live on earth?”
Patience.—“A seed aplanted be watched for grow. Ayea, but the seed held athin the palm be but a seed, and Earth hath seeds not aplanted that she casteth forth, e’en as she would to cast forth me, do I not to cloak me much.”
Dr. V.—“I understand; but can you not answer a little clearer the question I put?”
Patience.—“The time be not ariped for the put o’ this.”
Dr. V.—“What does Lethe mean?”