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  Dear Walt:

My friend Morse was much pleased to have your invitation to come, and he intended to do so about this time, but he writes me now that he has unexpectedly been called back to Boston this week.

He means, he says,   to make a special trip to see you just after New-Years. I hope he will, and that he will come to Washington at the same time.

You said in your last letter you still intended to come to Washington this Winter. So I defer my visit to you. I knew you would not Expect me on the 5th inst​ ,   as I was to write if I came.

My wife and I Earnestly hope we may see you at our house soon.

All my Thought of late, Walt, is of you, and your great work. I read and re-read your poems, and the "Vistas," and more and more see that I had but a faint comprehension of them before. They surpass every thing. All other books seem to me weak and unworthy my attention.

I read, Sunday, to my wife, Longfellows verses on Sumner, in the last Atlantic, and then I read your poem on the Death of Lincoln. It was like listening to a weak-voiced girl singing with piano accompanyment​ accompaniment​ , and then to an oratorio of the whole Handel Society, with accompanyment​ accompaniment​ by [illegible] music hall organ. My wife appreciated the difference greatly. I think I shall have to print the two side by side in my article if I ever write it. The comparison would be very significant. Trouble with me now is that the subject overpowers me. I am in awe—and dare not put pen to paper.

Cordially J. B. Marvin