Spencer Heath Archive

Item 1394

Carbon of a letter to Miss Florence _______, 814 Third Avenue, Verdun, Montreal, Canada

September 4, 1941

Dear Florence:

It was a glad surprise to hear from you after so long. I have been traveling a good deal and your letter only lately reached me in New York.

So you did remember the poem — the next best thing to remembering me — even if you did not remember to call me up again before I left Montreal, as you said you would.

Well, I am not sure whether I remember the right one or not, but I have typed off the one about the fiddle and the farm, the one /by Sam Walter Foss/ that has the title “Ownership,” and I hope this will be the right one, — but, of course, you can let me know if it isn’t. I think several poems, or fragments of poems passed between us; or was it all poetry. Wasn’t there a bit of a rift in the lute, as you saw it — and felt it? How rare is a memorable day without regrets — for what it held, or for what it withheld.

It is, indeed, good to know that you have secured the kind of work you like to do and are getting along splendidly. I am, as you hope, in good health and enjoying life, but not enjoying it enough. Are you? Is anyone?

What do you think of the philosophy of this poem, “Ownership?” Does it apply to people, as well as to fiddles and farms? Is the real owner the one who holds the title or the one who stirs the melodies? What think you?

It was June in the Laurentians. The spring floods and rains were gone — summer knocking at nature’s door. There were songs of birds, melody of flowing waters and whispering winds with mystic intimations — but I will leave you to finish painting the picture, perhaps with a mellow sunset dropping its veil of orange and gold over Lake Masson. I could send you some lines describing it as it might have been — a la Maud Muller on a summer’s day — something from the never-never land of wishes and imagination, that slips away before we fully grasp it. But enough for one time. What say you?

Sincerely,