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L E T T E R

XV.

To Mr.

H. 23 Feb. 76. Where was you this morning, my life? I should have been froze to death I believe with the cold, if I had not been waiting for you. I am uneasy, very uneasy. What could prevent you? Your own appointment too. Why not write, if not come? Then I had a dream laft

— night, a sad dream, my H.

you could

“ For thee I fear, my love; Such ghaftly dreams last night surprized my soul."

You may reply, perhaps, with my favourite Iphis,

Heed not these black illusions of the night,
The mockings of unquiet Numbers.”

Alas, I cannot help it. I am a weak woman, not a soldier.

I thought I thought you had a duel with a person whom we have agreed never to mention. I thought you killed each other. I not only saw his sword, I heard it pass through my H.’s body. I saw you both die? and with

you, love and gratitude. Who is there, i thought I, to mourn for M.Not FB one !

You may call me foolish; but I am uneasy, miserable; wretched ! indeed, indeed I am. For God's sake, let me hear

[ from you.

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it would,

That business, as I told you last night, obliges him to go to town. I am to follow for the winter. Now, my H. for the royal black bob and the bit of chalk; or for any better scheme you'll plan. Let me know, to-morrow, where

you

you think Lady G.'s scheme will be most practicable on the road, and there I'll take care to stop. I take my bible oath I won't deceive you, and more welcome shall you be to my longing arms, than all the dukes or princes in christendom. If I am not happy for one whole night in my life, it will now be

your

fault. Is not this kind and thoughtful? Why did it ever occur to you, so often as we have talked of my being obliged to leave this dear place? To me most dear, since it has been the scene of my acquaintance, my happiness with H.

But, am I to leave behind me that dearest H.? Surely your recruiting business must be nearly over now. You must go to town. Though things can't often be contrived at the A, they may--they may ?-they sball happen elsewhere.

Fail not to-morrow-and do not laugh at me any more about my dream. If it was a proof of my weakness, it was a proof also of my love.

I wish

I wish the day on which I am to set out from hence could be conjured about a month further back or so. Now, you ask why? Look in your last year's almanack. Was not the floortest day some where about that time? Come, give me a kiss for that, I am sure I deserve it.-Oh! fye Mr. H., not twenty. You are too generous in your payments. I must insist upon returning you the overplus the next time we meet--that is to-morrow, you know.

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Huntingdon, 26 Feb. 1776. Why will not the wished-for day, or rather night, arrive? And here, I have not seen you since I know not when-not for two whole days.

But I wrote you a long letter yesterday why it would be dangerous to meet; and all in rhyme. The beginning, I assure you was not poetry, but truth If the conclusion was coloured too highly, you must excuse it. The pencil of love executed it, and the fly rogue will indulge himself sometimes. Let the time come, I'll convince you his pencil did not much exaggerate.

you,

Just now I was thinking of your birthday, about which I asked you the other day. It's droll that your's and mine should be so near together. And thus I observe thereon.

Your poets, cunning rogues, pretend

That men are made of clay; And that the heavenly potters make

Some five or fix a day.

No wonder, M. I and you

Don't quite deteft each other ; Or that my soul is link'd to your's,

As if it were its brother :

For

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