[Boston—Sunday, 3 November 1872]
Sunday. November 3. 1872. Mrs Stowe is staying with us. Jamie is still at work on his Tennyson lecture which he gives again tomorrow evening. Tonight we take tea with Mrs Lowell Putnam. This rainy Sunday gives me a quiet moment at length. I knew it would come. If we could only be calm and patient there would then be time for all things and our growth and fulfilment would not daily perhaps be visited with pangs like that of a new birth—our pain would be more for others “a heart at leisure from itself” as the idea runs of Miss Waring’s beautiful hymn, is the heart and the life which achieves. I read “Lynette and Gareth” today. Tennyson’s last Idyl—a great poem.
