To Rosamond Thomas [Sturgis] Little
Rome. July 22, 1952.
Dear Rosamond,
Your 4 parcels of rice-cereals arrived today, just when my supply was about to fail. Thank you very much.
You will perceive by this short letter that something else is beginning to fail me, namely my eyes, and reading is even harder than writing, so that it will be hard for me to do anything but compose old-fashioned verses.
It had already been enthusiasm for a poem of Lorenzo de’ Medici that had overtaxed my eyesight in making alternative English version of it. At least I have something to balance my imprudence in 23 stanzas in octava rima, making a complete partly original work: my last! For everyone tells me, that I am almost dead. It is more than tolerable, in spite of the heat.
I must stop scrawling, although I have various other things that I should like to tell you.
Yours affectionately,
G Santayana
From The Letters of George Santayana: Book Eight, 1948-1952. Cambridge, MA: The MIT Press, 2008.
Location of manuscript: The Houghton Library, Harvard University, Cambridge MA.