Is plain, and in the eye of all Mankind
We fair ones show a preference, too blind!
You Gentle man immediately turn tail-
O let me then my hapless fate bewail!
Ungrateful Baldpate have I not disdain'd
The pleasant Valleys-have I not madbrain'd
Deserted all my Pickles and preserves

My China closet too-with wretched Nerves
To boot-say wretched ingrate have I not
Le[f]t my soft cushion chair and caudle pot.
'Tis true I had no corns-no! thank the fates
My Shoemaker was always Mr. Bates.
And if not Mr. Bates why I'm not old!

Still dumb ungrateful Nevis-still so cold!

Here the Lady took some more whiskey and was putting even more to her lips when she dashed [it] to the Ground for the Mountain began to grumble-which continued for a few minutes before he thus began,

BEN NEVIS.

What whining bit of tongue and Mouth thus dares
Disturb my slumber of a thousand years?
Even so long my sleep has been secure—
And to be so awaked I'll not endure.

Oh pain-for since the Eagle's earliest scream
I've had a damn'd, confounded ugly dream,
A Nightmare sure. What Madam was it you?
It cannot be! My old eyes are not true!
Red-Crag,' my Spectacles! Now let me see!
Good Heavens Lady how the gemini

Did you get here? O I shall split my sides!
I shall earthquake-

1 Keats explains that this was "a domestic of Ben's."

MRS. C.

Sweet Nevis do not quake, for though I love
Your honest Countenance all things above
Truly I should not like to be convey'd
So far into your Bosom-gentle Maid
Loves not too rough a treatment gentle Sir-
Pray thee be calm and do not quake nor stir
No not a Stone or I shall go in fits—

BEN NEVIS.

I must-I shall-I meet not such tit bits-
I meet not such sweet creatures every day—
By my old night cap night cap night and day
I must have one sweet Buss-I must and shall!
Red Crag! What Madam can you then repent
Of all the toil and vigour you have spent
To see Ben Nevis and to touch his nose?
Red Crag I say! OI must have them close!
Red Crag, there lies beneath my farthest toe
A vein of Sulphur-go dear Red Crag, go—
And rub your flinty back against it-budge!
Dear Madam I must kiss you, faith I must!
I must Embrace you with my dearest gust!
Block-head,' d'ye hear-Block-head I'll make her feel
There lies beneath my east leg's northern heel
A cave of young earth dragons—well my boy
Go thither quick and so complete my joy
Take you a bundle of the largest pines
And when the sun on fiercest Phosphor shines
Fire them and ram them in the Dragon's nest
Then will the dragons fry and fizz their best
Until ten thousand now no bigger than
Poor Alligators-poor things of one span-

1

This, writes Keats, was "another domestic of Ben's."

Will each one swell to twice ten times the size
Of northern whale-then for the tender prize-
The moment then-for then will Red Crag rub
His flinty back—and I shall kiss and snub
And press my dainty morsel to my breast.
Block-head make haste!

O Muses weep the rest-
The Lady fainted and he thought her dead
So pulled the clouds again about his head
And went to sleep again-soon she was rous'd
By her affrighted servants-next day hous'd
Safe on the lowly ground she bless'd her fate
That fainting fit was not delayed too late.

But what surprises me above all is how this Lady got down again. I felt it horribly. 'Twas the most vile descent-shook me all to pieces. Over leaf you will find a Sonnet I wrote on the top of Ben Nevis. We have just entered Inverness. I have three Letters from you and one [from] Fanny-and one from Dilke. I would set about crossing this all over for you but I will first write to Fanny and Mrs. Wylie. Then I will begin another to you and not before because I think it better you should have this as soon as possible. My Sore throat is not quite well and I intend stopping here a few days.

Read me a lesson, Muse, and speak it loud
Upon the top of Nevis, blind in mist!

I look into the chasms, and a shroud

Vaprous doth hide them,-just so much I wist
Mankind do know of hell; I look o'erhead,
And there is sullen mist,-even so much
Mankind can tell of heaven; mist is spread
Before the earth, beneath me, even such,
Even so vague is man's sight of himself!

Here are the craggy stones beneath my feet,-
Thus much I know that, a poor witless elf,

I tread on them,—that all my eye doth meet
Is mist and crag, not only on this height,
But in the world of thought and mental might!

Good bye till to-morrow.

It was a great regret to me that I should leave all my friends, just at the moment when I might have helped to soften away the time for them. I wanted not to leave my brother Tom, but more especially, believe me, I should like to have remained near you, were it but for an atom of consolation after parting with so dear a daughter. My brother George has ever been more than a brother to me; he has been my greatest friend, and I can never forget the sacrifice you have made for his happiness. As I walk along the Mountains here I am full of these things, and lay in wait, as it were, for the pleasure of seeing you immediately on my return to town. I wish, above all things, to say a word of Comfort to you, but I know not how. It is impossible to prove that black is white; it is impossible to make out that sorrow is joy, or joy is sorrow.

1 The mother of Mrs. George Keats.