Thou, fairest of fair, Patricia/
thou strong, though seeming fragile, beauteous one,/
Whose soft enchanting words/
Lift me exultant to the skies/
Whene’er you ope[n] your mouth and speak/
Or when your voice comes singing o’er the wires/
With healing magic for all loneliness/
paining heart; or fills with humbleness/
And peace the grateful spirit;/
May you forever live and let me/
Look upon you. But when,/
Some distant date, if eyes grow dim,/
Grant me that I may ever hover near,/
Look on your face; breathe out for you in never./
Ending stream and grateful recompense/
The strength and inspiration that I’ve drawn from you/
To keep yours yet more lasting and more beautiful;/
Or else – blot memory & sight forever out/
That I again may never, ever, know/
How much I’ve lost –/
Because I love you so!/
Carl
Jan 9, 1965.
Patricia;
Please phone me when you get in. I don’t care how late it is. Just a word or two from you will give me a lift that will last me all through tomorrow. (over) I’m getting over the down I had when I got the impression Thursday that you were having a worse time than you really were. You’ve no idea how relieved I was I learned you were doing O.K. But I’ll still hope for a phone call. If not now as early you wish in the AM. Carl
Dr. Carl Duncan and Patricia Whiting Collection (SJSU)
