My Dear William,
I have been very happy with my time in New York. Life in the city has not changed that much since we have last been here. It has gotten a little faster and crowded, but we have gotten more information at our fingertips and there are more sights to see. I am grateful that I journeyed here and had the opportunity to catch up with my best friend. I have not seen Claire in ages but she is doing well. In fact, she is recently engaged to a gentleman from Brooklyn, New York named Jack. I have not meant him yet but I do know that he has not appreciated Claire going out drinking with me.
Claire and I are staying at the Savoy-Plaza Hotel which is this hotel filled with beautiful rooms and intricate décor. You and I must come back here so you can see for yourself just how grand it is. There are also bookstores, art exhibits, and department stores that I know you would enjoy. Today Claire and I did some shopping in the area and I came across a quaint bookstore on 5th Ave called Brentano’s. As I was browsing through the store, I found a book for you titled the Rubáiyát of Omar Khayyám. It was published in 1916 by Dodge Publishing Company. Originally, the tan cloth cover and gilded, gold title caught my eye but I soon discovered it was a collection of poems and would be the perfect gift for you. The stanzas are enclosed by this stunning illustration of vines and leaves. There are also magnificent illustrations in this edition done by an artist of the name Adelaide Hanscom Leeson. I know how much you enjoy photography and you would absolutely love Adelaide Hanscom Leeson’s work. The first photograph in the collection is of a man wearing nothing but a cloth sitting on the floor. He is elegantly holding up a cup and there is pottery near him. The colors in the photograph are striking.
The collection of poems also has deeply philosophical and spiritual meaning that renders questions of life, death, and the high divine. One quatrain, XXIV, describing “Ah, make the most of what we yet may spend, Before we too into the dust descend; Dust into Dust, and under Dust, to lie, Sans Wine, sans Song, sans Singer, and – Sans End!” This reminds me of a conversation that we had over dinner the other night about worldly values and various beliefs of a higher power. My dear, philosophy is such a big passion of yours and I cannot wait to hear your thoughts on the book. However, in gifting you this book, I also hope that it reminds you of me and the love that we share. In quatrain XII, the narrator says, “A Book of Verses underneath the Bough, A Jug of Wine, a Loaf of Bread—and Thou Beside me singing in the Wilderness—Oh, Wilderness were Paradise enow!” I want you to know that even the wilderness is paradise as long as I have you, my beloved husband, by my side. In loving you, I learned that home is not a place but rather a person. When you are by my side it is a blissful paradise and I feel at home.
I hope this letter and the book finds you well. I just knew when I saw this book that it belonged on your bookshelf and in your collection. I will be returning back home to Long Island on Friday.
With all my love,
Mary