With the earnestness of spirit which is shown in this and which so continually sounded in her poems, Mrs. Moulton lived her rich life in the congenial atmosphere which surrounded her. Mrs. Spofford, writing of Mrs. Moulton from personal memory, says of her in 1860:
"She was now in her twenty-fifth year, fully launched upon the literary high-seas, contributing to Harper's, the Galaxy, and Scribner's as they came into existence, and to the Young Folks, the Youth's Companion, and other periodicals for children. Her life seemed a fortunate one. She had a charming home in Boston where she met and entertained the most pleasant people; her housekeeping duties were fulfilled to a nicety, and no domestic detail neglected for all her industrious literary undertakings. A daughter had been born to her, Florence, to whom 'Bed-time Stories' were dedicated in some most tender and touching verses, and, somewhat later, a son whose little life was only numbered by days."
Life was deepening and offering ever wider horizons. With Emily Dickinson she might have said of the complex interweaving of event, influence, and inspiration:
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Ah! the bewildering thread! The tapestries of Paradise So notelessly are made. |
[CHAPTER III]
1860-1876
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But poets should Exert a double vision; should have eyes To see near things as comprehensively As if afar they took their point of sight; And distant things as intimately deep As if they touched them.... I do distrust the poet who discerns No character or glory in his time. Mrs. Browning.—Aurora Leigh. |
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... there are divine things, well envelop'd; I swear to you, there are divine things more beautiful than words can tell.—Walt Whitman, Song of the Open Road. |
The morning skies were all aflame.—L.C.M.