016933Dog on ice, trees, streams, a[illegible] Glacier meadows mountain floras All in fading memory mingled In dullest prose or doggerel jingled. My useless clothes are falling fast Before this wilting scorching blast. My broiling flesh is gone or going Like snow, in sunshine melting flowing Wit, sense, & all I fear will follow. E'en now my skull sounds light & hollow. Thank Heaven the little left will be Soon cooling on the breezy sea Then looking back I'll blow my slogan Like that brave sailor Paddy Grogan And on every wave of the heaving main I'll find my friends & joys again.New YorkJune 22, 1893.The weather is cool now. For three days the thermometer was above 90° - mostly 95 & 98 - & I began to suffer. But Johnson Kept taking out on the water & so I pulled through. - without much harm. Love to all. Will write the children a line tomorrow. Ever yours John Muir
1893 Jun 22
Original letter dimensions: 30.5 x 21 cm.
Reel 07, Image 1144
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