My dear Uncle, At the weekend party which I attended, I noticed
that I couldn’t stop looking. Such brown beauty, soft skin, brown eyes, slim
figure, one of a kind. A prettiness almost unsurpassed and in her eyes I
understood a gaze that too was wanting me. Shall I mourn at my loss? Shall I
joy at meeting such tender smile, such summerish glow? We spoke only to address
nature, to hide what lingered beyond our shy horizon. What means shall
providence employ for us to meet again? In this matter I have no faith, no
light at the tunnels end. But these circumstances are such that another of
Eve’s kind will win my emotion again and each time I shall be effortlessly won
for there is none at present that enamours my soul. My heart is like a reed,
blowing here and there according to the blowing wind. Not long ago my nature
was besotted, infatuated with another, resting beneath her shade that we were
unaware of other myrrh, for our contentment was in dreaming about eating her fruits
for she never once descended for us to have a bite. She gave it to another and
ever since then, my mind has been in exile, wandering to different amusements until
a pasture arise for us to dwell. But her whom I saw today, I cannot say I loved
for it takes time for seeds to mature. In meeting her eyes, there raptured in
me a jubilee of a noble kind, possessing a secret smile only to be revealed
when providence shall see it right for us to encounter again.
Your favourite cousin
Winconstin
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