Yours indifferently,
Her Royal Haughtiness
(Enclosure)
Dear Mother of the Poet:
Your son has written me your message. It is lovely of you to understand. And you do understand, do you not, just how much this pleasant pen-and-ink friendship means to me in my restricted world, bound as it is by walls, north and south, east and west.
The bedsocks sound beautiful. I have some severe gray ones which always make me feel very plain. But Sarah, who fashioned them, has little imagination. It is dear of you to want to knit for me, and when the cold nights come, I shall welcome your gift! About size three, I should say.
Mr. Warren writes me that The Lyric Hour is dedicated to you. I have turned to the page and read it with new eyes. "To the Dearest of All." And I am sure that the poem which is my favorite is your own. It is the one which begins
For this, the patience of your Love, The pride which gives me wings. Dearest, my gratitude....
If only I could say it in verse, what a thankful little poem would go to you now! But I can only sign myself,
Very Much Your Debtor
New York City
August 16th
Cruel Princess!