Warm your tootsies I will keep
While your parents sweetly sleep .
Be the weather cold or hot
When you’re snuggling in your cot
Place your weight upon me not,
From New Year’s Day to Old Year’s End
I remain your warmest friend .
If approval you would seek
Be like me and never leak .
14 Feb. 1954 . On the reverse side of Thomasina
At the time of my birthday in 1952 Marion and I were enjoying the tenancy of the ground-floor flat in Beaufort House, with a garden where the Library now stands. The SCR were very interested to see it, and one at a time came to coffee. I introduced my old Teddy bear glove puppet to them. Marion’s amusing and teaching her young brother had led to her having built up a gang of puppets and toys, and a world for them to inhabit. We had used these in college for charades. These birthday greetings were from them:
We 4 friends who send you this
Greet you with a Birthday Kiss:
On the fly-leaf written clear
All our signatures appear:
Our initials follow here, Happy Birthday, mistress dear. E.B.B. R.C de LB. D.P. E de P
Suck it and see , WOG . H. S. B. I’LL SCRATCH YOUR BACK , YOU SCRATCH MINE A PRESENT FROM J.O. and Dinah. When with this you do inscribe think of us and all our tribe : May your shadow ne’er grow thinner !
0 B Horse . A Spider A. MacSkinner .
I have found these enfolded by an undated sonnet in small capitals, with its initials in red :
Your mind’s a very opal, clear and bright,
Reflecting with shot-silk inconstancy
The gay and wayward dance of candlelight
When silken hangings flutter suddenly :
My soul the candle, life the tapestry
Woven in silk with colours strange and old ;
Your mind’s an obdurate transparency
Frosty with flame, irradiate with cold .
Brilliance is mine, without stability ;
But you can neither change nor shine alone :
Death comes upon the wind of destiny;
When the flame dies, all lustre leaves the stone.
Then take, my love, all light at my command
To wake the glowing opal of your mind
11th June 1952
When grief is weary and white flowers droop on your grave ,
When the moon has waned and wan is the world of men ,
Though I give to despair what strength to delight I gave
Desire of my life , dear love , how shall I mourn you then ?
White is the moon , merry this world of men .
With joy unwearied I braid white flowers for your brow ;
Live , for delight must wane and we know not when —
Desire of my life , dear love , how shall I mourn you now ?
High is the moon — ah , never teach me the how !
A swan sings one sweet day and dies in his song :
Whenever it be that I at your graveside bow ,
Desire of my life , dear love , I shall not mourn you long —
One song , and I follow your step across the bourn :
Desire of my life , dear love , believe me I shall not mourn .
14th September 1952
[ On the same sheet as Greensleeves ]
second inner page
Who art thou so roughly used ,
Kidnapped , cheated and abused ,
Barred the honours of thy name ,
Closeted with lust and shame ,
Destitute and threadbare met
In thy state revealing yet
More than princely dignity,
More than earthly quality ?
I am heaven’s highest good
Here but weakly understood :
Life is at my bidding stirred ,
And my name so idly heard
Thunders as a trump above :
Think , then speak , for in a word
I am Love .
Dated on outer page, 17th Oct.1951.
We three hereafter undersigned
All now assembled here
Wish you with merry heart and mind
A Birthday of good cheer,
Because we love you dear
And want you to live happily
As we have often told you,
So no one shall speak snappily
Or frown at you or scold you
We wish that every morning you
May wake up blithe and gay
And rise more fresh than early dew
Prepared in every way
To face the toilsome day,
And each day gaily carry on
Till evening bring you bedward,
And this we wish from Marion
From Richard and from Edward
presumably June 11th 1951