BR TO OTTOLINE MORRELL, [31 MAR. 1911]
BRACERS 17066. ALS. Morrell papers #12, Texas
Proofread by K. Blackwell and A.G. Bone

<London>
Friday Night1^, 2

My Beloved

A thousand thanks for the picture — it is very good, and it is nice to have Venice in the background. I like it better small, because then I can have it always with me. Your letter is beautiful, tho’ you do not know yourself how beautiful it is. Dearest your love is so infinitely precious to me and still so wonderfully bewildering that sometimes I feel as if I should wake up and find I had only dreamed it. It seems so incredible that anything so beautiful should have come to me. Everything is right in my feelings now, absolutely right. I feel sure it will remain so, but I will always tell you everything I feel, as much when it is painful as when it isn’t. We must always build on truth — there is nothing real or good without truth. But now your love so fills my heart that I feel nothing could ever be difficult — I can feel affection for all mankind, and as I go about the streets I feel filled with the sense of universal brotherhood. I am thankful now that we are not to snatch at happiness by the ruin of others — love misses what is best when it does not give affection for others. I feel as you do about Julian. But of course it will become harder when I have not seen you so lately, and when I hunger for you as I shall do. For the present, I find that all the difficult things in my nature are made easy, and all the roughnesses are smoothed away.

Dearest, it is good that Love has come to you — it would have been too terrible if your divine power of loving had never found an object. I feel utterly unworthy, but I do give you a love which is worthy of yours.

I got the letter you sent to Fernhurst. It was forwarded to me safely. If you write to Fernhurst tomorrow I shall get it, but after that Carlyle Square again. I did not answer the letter to Fernhurst, because others had come later. I am very sorry, Darling, that you are tired and have a bad headache — but it is not to be wondered at. I too am tired, since I no longer have the stimulus of pain and anxiety. But I feel a boundless energy, which I shall have to turn on to work if I can tear my thoughts away from you for those hours of the day. It is late now and I must be up early tomorrow so this must go to the post. All day there were people in the room, and I find it difficult to write to you when others are present. I will get a book on Monday or Tuesday. Have you got Syngh3 or do you like him? His poems are no good, but Deirdre is beautiful. Goodnight, my heart and my life.

B.

• 1

  [document] Document 000012. Proofread against a colour scan of the original.

• 2

  [envelope] A circled “12”. The Lady Ottoline Morrell | 44 Bedford Square | W.C. Pmk: LONDON.S.W | APL 1 11A | 4. AM

• 3

  Syngh The author of Deirdre of the Sorrows (1910) was John Millington Synge (1871–1909).