Love Letters

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Katherine Bradley: 

September 1881, I woke I longed for you with the longing of the mother for the baby that milks it. Then of course I dreamed of you in less than a month heaven smiling which should be on the moors together. Oh how I love thee, how I dote on thee. Thy Queen Titania.

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Edith Cooper: 

My darling wife,

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Katherine Bradley: 

Dearest Love,

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Edith Cooper: 

Sweet wife,

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Katherine Bradley: 

My child, My own husband

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Edith Cooper: 

My own darling wife,

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Katherine Bradley:

Darling of my heart. Dearest and best,

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Edith Cooper: 

My wife, My most beloved

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Katherine Bradley:

My darling joy

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Edith Cooper: 

Owl and owlet, My all wise fowl

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Katherine Bradley:

My Pretty,

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Edith Cooper: 

My darling Simorg, My precious one My Merle, I quiver want my Merle! Fowl and fowlet...

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Katherine Bradley: 

My dear Persian,

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Edith Cooper: 

Owl and owlet

 

Katherine Bradley: 

My darling, my darling 

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Edith Cooper: 

My darling Sim,

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Katherine Bradley: 

Oh, Persian puss My precious puss Hush Persian puss

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Edith Cooper: 

Oh Sim,

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Katherine Bradley:

Oh puss

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Edith Cooper:

My stock-dove, March 1880. I do not think I shall ever love Florence. The streets are much like Paris only not so picturesque. The Arno is a dark brown not nearly so nice as the Seine. The outside of the churches are an acquired taste, like olives 24th of August 1880 How your letter has enriched me, given me sight of heaps of sun dried melons and gourds and sun bronzed women. Your letter made me very happy

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Sophie Goldrick:

September 1883 The Hague. My own love. I begin where I left off at the Mayor's reception Monday night. As soon as we got into the crowd room and bowed to hosted host and hostess, little glasses of foaming champagne were handed round, then little patties, wicked looking things. Fear not, I touched none of their evil things I remained very miserable

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Edith Cooper: 

1885 Stoke Green. My own loving dear, the parents miserable. won't lend you the Pussy. Perhaps it is well that we should join when airs are milder and when we could brood together over our nest

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Katherine Bradley:

have a heart of stone if after this she keeps from me. What is it to me to be in the woods without my pretty swinging on the bough? "Coo coo" says the Old Fowl.

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Edith Cooper:

Very sweet is your call to me. I love it dearly and it does not coo in vain for me. Mew Mew

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Katherine Bradley:

Coo Coo

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Edith Cooper:

Addio, my own old fowl Farewell my pretty Thine own pussy

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Katherine Bradley:

Thine own forever, Sim.

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Edith Cooper:

Thy own poet and pussie

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Katherine Bradley: 

Thy own Isla, ever thy own fond fowl

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Edith Cooper:

Your loving and pure, pussie May we soon be fully reunited

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Katherine Bradley: 

Heaven reunite us! Your own Michael. Katie. Kiss me yet again: and good night, my child Good night! Ever thy own fond fowl Hennie! My All-one Oh my large loving boy - good night! Michael Cooooo cooooooo...

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Edith Cooper: 

Your Henry Heinrich Love from the Persians very heart He loves his all wise fowl Thy Master Hennie! The P.P. - who loves you and mews for you - mews for you and loves you. Mewwwwwww mewwww...

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