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{in a second hand: "Ames, Charles Gordon"}
25 [?] Roxbury, Mass Feb 10 / 90
My dear Mrs. Sewall -
Woe is me that I am not man you took me for! I cannot go to Washington, & have never said or thought that I could go If only wishes were horses, how simply I would ride: but my feet are fast in the stocks. Please forgive whoever has deceived you in this matter & congratulate yourself that the long programme will still be too short for all who will want to speak. The "Toasts" you offer me are loathsome: I am greedy enough to take both; and am therefore sure you will suffer from a plethora of talk.
I have just been making the enclosed copy of some line which my wife wants me to send you for the banquet; She,
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to meanwhile lying limp with tonsilitis. Should you care to use her "home", I trust you will be the reader of it. You will observe that she insists on pronouncing the Greek "Tau" after the German standard. Or, if you choose, you can call "brow" as if it were "braugh!" Mrs Ames's love for Susan must have affected her like an inspiration; for I do not remember her dropping into rhyme till now since our wedding journey (1863) when we were en routé between Albany & Lake Champlain. Then she broke out —
"The Hudson rests her happy head Among the northern hills, And draws into her Emerald bed The little snickerings rills."
This you are not to use at Washington though it may appear in Fanny's "collected works".
Do you know how happily, your fellow-church folk at Spring Gardens are getting on with Mr Nichols their new minister. I trust our new president remember is doing us credit. Please come this way & report yourself now & then
Yours habitually
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The Modern St. Anthony By Fanny B. Ames
"Who loves home and friends for my name's sake Finds life that neither foe nor time can take!" So spoke the ancient Voice.
By spirit's ear the spirit's sense is heard; And souls that caught but half that mystic word Fled far from houses of men, —
To list in cell, or cave, or desert wild, The whisper sweet "Well done; thou art my child!" That bids the heart rejoice.
Fair legend tells how one who bore the name of Antony left all and wandered till he came Where wild beasts make their den
Alone he fought the fiends that ever would Beguile the souls that follow after Good, And kept his faith intact
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(2 And sacred Art has told, in pictures, quaint, What hideous forms & foul beset the saint, In horrid, grewsome strife.
By victory o'er these ugly shapes of wrong, What purity's power he gained, ere long! Nor higher skill he lacked —
To cheer sad souls, heal hurts, charm feuds to peace To bid injustice & unkindness cease: And thus he won the Life.
And now he bears the sacred (Tau) ^Tau,^ with those Who keep the chosen way, despite of foes, Way of the Crucified.
And thou, Saint Anthony of modern days, Hast thou not also trod the desert ways? The fiends, that mock and rage,
Thou hast confronted in the halls of state, In labor's marked, ^and^ at the college gate; Yet none could make afraid.
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Foul Slander and Abuse have crossed thy path, And Fashion and Convention mocked in wrath Thy noble youth and age.
"Go forth", the Spirit said, "for my name's sake; Give all thou art; all ease & gain forsake. That call thou hast obeyed.
How sweet were home and quiet hearth to thee! But sweeter righteousness enthroned to see; To thee nought else was gain.
And {carat: "thou,"} for Womanhood, by night and day, Hast cried, with prophet voice, "Prepare they way! Thy life became a light.
To widow's wrongs and childhood's menaced years Thou gavest pleadings, strivings, prayers, & tears. And gavest not in vain.
What though the State, entrenched in wont & use, Withholds, with shifting voice & vain excuse, The seal of civic right?
The heavy burden has been rolled away, As growing girl but sees a gladder day, Through thee, & those like thee.