Of it Mrs. Spofford said: "Mrs. Moulton's last volume of poems, 'At the Wind's Will,' fitly crowns the literary achievement of the century. It is poetry at high-water mark. Her work exhibited in previous volumes has given her a rank among the foremost poets of the world, and much of the work in 'At the Wind's Will' exceeds in grasp and in surrender, in strength and in beauty, anything she has hitherto published." So the year wore to a close. Her last record for December in her diary reads: "Now this year of 1899 goes out,--a year in which I have accomplished nothing,--gone back, I fear, in every way. God grant 1900 may be better." In part this was the expression of the melancholy natural to ill health, but it was a characteristic cry from one always too likely to underrate herself. Surely the prayer was granted, for the year 1900 gave her again a spring in Rome and Florence, and was filled with rich and significant experiences. CHAPTER VIII 1900-1906 ... One in whom The spring-tide of her childish years Hath never lost its sweet perfume, Though knowing well that life hath room For many blights and many tears.--LOWELL. In my dreams you are beside me,-- Still I hear your tender tone; And your dear eyes light my darkness Till I am no more alone: For with memories I am haunted, And the silence seems to beat With the music of your talking, And the coming of your feet.--L.C.M. The diary during the early months of the year which opened the new century records as often before many kindnesses in the form of reading for various objects: "Went in evening to read for the Rev. Mr. Shields, of South Boston." "In the evening read for the College Club. Mrs. Howe presided. The other readers were Dr. Hale, Dr. Ames, Colonel Higginson, J.T. Trowbridge, Judge Grant, and Nathan Haskell Dole." "Read for the Young Men's Christian Association. I read 'In Arcady,' 'The Name on a Door,' and 'A June Song,' of my own verses; then my paper on the Marstons, entitled 'Five Friends.' People seemed pleased." Among her numerous generous acts were to be reckoned the many times when, without regard to herself, she assisted at readings or gave a reading entirely by herself. On February 19, the entry is: "Two years ago this day Mr. Moulton passed out of life. It was my first thought this morning, and the sadness of it has been with me all day."