Black Bread #2, November 1992 Gosling Press, Providence, Rhode Island, 1992, Illustrated Wraps, , , Very Good
88 pp. Limited to 200 copies. Light bumping and soiling to wraps. Poems by Barabara Enzig, Lisa Jarnot, Kimberly Lyons, Beth Henderson, Lee Ann Brown, Myung Mi Kim, Christysh, Sianne Ngai, Kathleen Fraser, Jessica Lowenthal, Rosmarie Waldrop, Jennifer Moxley, art by Amos Latteier.
The Paula Peyraud Collection: Samuel Johnson & Women Writers in Georgian Society.An Auction Report by Maureen E. Mulvihill as published in
Eighteenth-Century Studies, Fall 2009, with 8 images and a list of selected buyers,
prices & new locations of the Peyraud properties.
A pdf of the published report may be downloaded here: http://www.ilab.org/download.php?object=documentation&id=81
‘DARK LADY’ OF RARE BOOK COLLECTORS,
PAULA FENTRESS PEYRAUD (CHAPPAQUA, NY, 1947 ~ 2008).
Peyraud Collection Auction, May 2009, Bloomsbury Auctions N.Y.
483 Lots (books, manuscripts, images). Sales total: $1.6 million,
including premium. Photograph, Margie Van Dyke.
Bookplate from Peyraud copy of Frances Burney’s Cecilia,
(lot 218, buyer McGill University). Bookplate bears inscribed
initials (“FCP - EKP”), being the collector’s
grandparents Frank C. Peyraud & Elizabeth Krysler Peyraud,
both visual artists (see “Peyraud,” Benezit, vol.
10, 2006 edition).
EARLY SPRING
Once more the Heavenly Power
Makes all things new,
And domes the red-plowed hills
With loving blue;
The blackbirds have their wills,
The throstles too.
Opens a door in Heaven;
From skies of glass
A Jacob's ladder falls
On greening grass,
And o'er the mountain-walls
Young angels pass.
Before them fleets the shower,
And burst the buds,
And shine the level lands,
And flash the floods;
The stars are from their hands
Flung through the woods,
The woods with living airs
How softly fanned,
Light airs from where the deep,
All down the sand,
Is breathing in his sleep,
Heard by the land.
O, follow, leaping blood,
The season's lure!
O heart, look down and up,
Serene, secure,
Warm as the crocus cup,
Like snow-drops, pure!
Past, Future glimpse and fade
Through some slight spell,
A gleam from yonder vale,
Some far blue fell;
And sympathies, how frail,
In sound and smell!
Till at thy chuckled note,
Thou twinkling bird,
The fairy fancies range,
And, lightly stirred,
Ring little bells of change
From word to word.
For now the Heavenly Power
Makes all things new,
And thaws the cold, and fills
The flower with dew;
The blackbirds have their wills,
The poets too.