Celestia R. Colby diary, p. 62 (October 9, 1858)
Dublin Core
Title
Celestia R. Colby diary, p. 62 (October 9, 1858)
Description
Transcript:
62
Oct 9th 1858
One year ago yesterday since I said good
bye to Annie on the cars. Wanted to write
some last night but was too "deeply, darkly,
desperately," steeped in indigo to trust myself
with a pen only for the tedium of
copying. It is Saturday night once more, my
weeks work is done, or must be undone. Wonder
if I should be missed any, if that same
work could move along by some invisible
angency. Would any heart be lonely, any one
pine for my society? To know this, would be
a luxury; yet I often feel such a sense of
[underlined: "mental and spiritual isolation"] from all
mankind that I feel that I should no more be
missed ^than the leaf^ that falls from the tree "when summer
is green," and last night I felt this [underlined: "so keenly"]
that I could but weep, and yet perhaps I
make for myself all this wretched cheer, but
the feeling is none the less real. Could I hide
it all within, that it should leave no trace
of an unwritten hearthistory on my brow, I
should be content. But this cannot always
be, and I sometimes fancy that every face
is a mirror of the heart.
62
Oct 9th 1858
One year ago yesterday since I said good
bye to Annie on the cars. Wanted to write
some last night but was too "deeply, darkly,
desperately," steeped in indigo to trust myself
with a pen only for the tedium of
copying. It is Saturday night once more, my
weeks work is done, or must be undone. Wonder
if I should be missed any, if that same
work could move along by some invisible
angency. Would any heart be lonely, any one
pine for my society? To know this, would be
a luxury; yet I often feel such a sense of
[underlined: "mental and spiritual isolation"] from all
mankind that I feel that I should no more be
missed ^than the leaf^ that falls from the tree "when summer
is green," and last night I felt this [underlined: "so keenly"]
that I could but weep, and yet perhaps I
make for myself all this wretched cheer, but
the feeling is none the less real. Could I hide
it all within, that it should leave no trace
of an unwritten hearthistory on my brow, I
should be content. But this cannot always
be, and I sometimes fancy that every face
is a mirror of the heart.
Creator
Colby, Celestia R. (Celestia Rice), 1827-1900
Source
Colby Family Papers, Dr. Jo Ann Rayfield Archives, Milner Library, Illinois State University (Normal, Illinois)
Rights
Format
diaries; manuscripts
Language
English
Type
Text
Identifier
CRC_014_R
Files
Citation
Colby, Celestia R. (Celestia Rice), 1827-1900, “Celestia R. Colby diary, p. 62 (October 9, 1858),” Exhibits, accessed February 11, 2025, https://onlineexhibits.library.illinoisstate.edu/exhibits/items/show/22.