ashes in the front garden and a charred bone with Penelope’s bracelet on it！ But the bow was at home。 If you can make it alive （it’s as dead as mutton）； the “local colour” is all right。 Then I’d work in your bit； where the Sidonians nobble him； and add local colour。
Nov。 2nd。 I have done a little more。 Taken Od。 into the darkness and given him a song； but I think he had been reading Swinburne when he wrote it。
The next letter is undated：
Certainly the bow must sing； but I don’t think words。
As readers of the book will know； the bow was ultimately made to sing in words。 I suggested to Lang that such words might be arranged to imitate the hiss of arrows and the humming of the string。 The result was his “Song of the Bow；” which I think a wonderfully musical poem。
Nov。 27th。 The typewritten “Song of the Bow” has e。 The Prologue I wrote is better out。 It is very odd to see how your part （though not your chef d’oeuvre） is readable； and how mine — isn’t。 Tell Longman the “Bow” is a Toxophilite piece。
The chaff about the Bow being a Toxophilite piece refers to Charles Longman’s fondness for archery。
Jan 1st； 1889。 Splendid idea； no two people seeing Helen the same。 So Meriamun might see her right in her vision； and never see her so again； till she finds her with Odysseus。 Indeed this is clearly what happens； take the case of Mary Stuart： no two portraits alike — or Cleopatra。 I bar the bogles rather。 They’d need to be very shadowy at least。 If you have them； they should simply make room for him。
But the shifting beauty is really poetical to my mind。
Here is one more letter dated June 27th； or part of it； which well exemplifies Lang’s habit of depreciating his own work：
I have been turning over “The World’