I think you have unusual reflective power;
and I am sure that in time you will find time and occasion for its
exercise, and will accomplish some honorable tasks.
Very truly yours,
D. A. Wasson
It maybe fancy on my part, but I have a feeling that, all
unconsciously to Mr. Burroughs, a sentence or two in Mr. Wasson's
letter of September 29, 1862, had something to do with inspiring
the mood of trustfulness and the attitude of waiting in serenity,
which gave birth to this poem:--
. . . The book, too, all in good season. Life for you is very
long, and you can take your time. Take it by all means. Give
yourself large leisure to do your best.
Whether or not this is so, I am sure the sympathy and understanding
of such a man as Mr. Wasson was a godsend to our struggling writer,
and was one of the most beautiful instances in his life of "his
own" coming to him.
"Waiting" seems to have gone all over the world. It has been
several times set to music, and its authorship has even been
claimed by others. It has been parodied, more's the pity; and
spurious stanzas have occasionally been appended to it; while
an inferior stanza, which the author dropped years ago, is from
time to time resurrected by certain insistent ones. Originally,
it had seven stanzas; the sixth, discarded by its author, ran
as follows:--
You flowret, nodding in the wind,
Is ready plighted to the bee;
And, maiden, why that look unkind?
For, lo! thy lover seeketh thee.
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