GE to Martha Jackson, Griff, 30 July 1840
Title
GE to Martha Jackson, Griff, 30 July 1840
Title
GE to Martha Jackson, Griff, 30 July 1840
Sender
George Eliot
Recipient
Martha Jackson
Date(s)
- 1840-07-30
Place
GRIFF
Letter Content
GE to Martha Jackson, Griff, 30 July 1840
Text: Bookman, 3 (December 1892), 83, and Poet-Lore, 6 (January 1894), 2-3.
The Bower of Clematis, 234 | July 30th, 1840.
My dear Ivy,
If you knew how the tendrils of your Clematis have been twisted out of their natural inclination, you would not wonder that she should concentrate all her sap for her own support under this rack-like process, and thus become stunted instead of stretching out a branch to clasp even her Ivy. At length, however, she invites her fellow creeper (rather humbling by the bye that they must both be called parasitic plants) to try whether the same soil and air will suit the constitution of each. Without all travesty, dear Patty, if you can venture an experiment on Griff and its presiding nymph I shall be glad to welcome you hither on Wednesday week.
There is an enchanting air of mystery about your note, dear Ivy; you thought, I suppose, that you had shrouded your secret in the fashion of a Turkish lady, but I can tell you that it wore only the thin gauze that tempts one to pry more closely. So some lord of the forest, some giant oak or elm, has discovered that Ivy has just the qualifications to make wedded bliss more than a dream! I perfectly agree with his oakship -- for what should a wife be if not faithful, devoted, clinging to the last, even when the rich boughs that made the oak's beauty in the eyes of all beside, are leafless and withered? And what moreover if not of vigorous and fibrous mental contexture, conjoined with apparent fragility, lightness, and elegance? Shall I not do to write your epithalamium? . . . Come and blow on me, and wrench the sorrowful weeds that nearly choke my stream. Send me that honeyed word yes, and you will gladden your drooping
Clematis.
Text: Bookman, 3 (December 1892), 83, and Poet-Lore, 6 (January 1894), 2-3.
The Bower of Clematis, 234 | July 30th, 1840.
My dear Ivy,
If you knew how the tendrils of your Clematis have been twisted out of their natural inclination, you would not wonder that she should concentrate all her sap for her own support under this rack-like process, and thus become stunted instead of stretching out a branch to clasp even her Ivy. At length, however, she invites her fellow creeper (rather humbling by the bye that they must both be called parasitic plants) to try whether the same soil and air will suit the constitution of each. Without all travesty, dear Patty, if you can venture an experiment on Griff and its presiding nymph I shall be glad to welcome you hither on Wednesday week.
There is an enchanting air of mystery about your note, dear Ivy; you thought, I suppose, that you had shrouded your secret in the fashion of a Turkish lady, but I can tell you that it wore only the thin gauze that tempts one to pry more closely. So some lord of the forest, some giant oak or elm, has discovered that Ivy has just the qualifications to make wedded bliss more than a dream! I perfectly agree with his oakship -- for what should a wife be if not faithful, devoted, clinging to the last, even when the rich boughs that made the oak's beauty in the eyes of all beside, are leafless and withered? And what moreover if not of vigorous and fibrous mental contexture, conjoined with apparent fragility, lightness, and elegance? Shall I not do to write your epithalamium? . . . Come and blow on me, and wrench the sorrowful weeds that nearly choke my stream. Send me that honeyed word yes, and you will gladden your drooping
Clematis.
Signature
Clematis.
Citation
George Eliot, GE to Martha Jackson, Griff, 30 July 1840, Complete George Eliot Letters(2026), George Eliot Archive, edited by Beverley Park Rilett. https://GeorgeEliotArchive.org, Accessed September 7, 2026. https://georgeeliotarchive.org/items/show/92936