One of these days I shall describe a country I
have seen in my soul only, fruits, flowers, birds and all.

Ever yours, dear Miss Barrett,

R. BROWNING.

[Footnote 1: A rough sketch follows in the original.]

_E.B.B. to R.B._

Thursday Morning.
[Post-mark, April 18, 1845.]

If you did but know dear Mr. Browning how often I have written ... not
this letter I am about to write, but another better letter to you, ...
in the midst of my silence, ... you would not think for a moment that
the east wind, with all the harm it does to me, is able to do the
great harm of putting out the light of the thought of you to my mind;
for this, indeed, it has no power to do. I had the pen in my hand once
to write; and why it fell out, I cannot tell you. And you see, ... all
your writing will not change the wind! You wished all manner of good
to me one day as the clock struck ten; yes, and I assure you I was
better that day--and I must not forget to tell you so though it is so
long since. And _therefore_, I was logically bound to believe that you
had never thought of me since ... unless you thought east winds of me!
_That_ was quite clear; was it not? or would have been; if it had not
been for the supernatural conviction, I had above all, of your
kindness, which was too large to be taken in the hinge of a syllogism.
In fact I have long left off thinking that logic proves anything--it
_doesn't_, you know.

But your Lamia has taught you some subtle 'viperine' reasoning and
_motiving_, for the turning down one street instead of another. It was
conclusive.

Ah--but you will never persuade me that I am the better, or as well,
for the thing that I have not. We look from different points of view,
and yours is the point of attainment. Not that you do not truly say
that, when all is done, we must come home to place our engines, and
act by our own strength. I do not want material as material; no one
does--but every life requires a full experience, a various
experience--and I have a profound conviction that where a poet has
been shut from most of the outward aspects of life, he is at a
lamentable disadvantage. Can you, speaking for yourself, separate the
results in you from the external influences at work around you, that
you say so boldly that you get nothing from the world? You do not
_directly_, I know--but y