well, the name of this little commonwealth.
Lastly, you will not be very remote from me; and though I am the
very worst companion for young people in the world, this objection
would not apply to _you_, whom I could see frequently. Your
expenses, too, would be such as best suit your inclinations, more
or less, as you thought proper; but very little would be requisite
to enable you to enter into all the gaieties of a country life. You
could be as quiet or bustling as you liked, and certainly as well
situated as on the lakes of Cumberland, unless you have a
particular wish to be _picturesque_.

"Pray, is your Ionian friend in town? You have promised me an
introduction.--You mention having consulted some friend on the
MSS.--Is not this contrary to our usual way? Instruct Mr. Murray
not to allow his shopman to call the work 'Child of Harrow's
Pilgrimage!!!!!' as he has done to some of my astonished friends,
who wrote to enquire after my sanity on the occasion, as well they
might. I have heard nothing of Murray, whom I scolded heartily.
Must I write more notes?--Are there not enough?--Cawthorn must be
kept back with the 'Hints.'--I hope he is getting on with
Hobhouse's quarto. Good evening. Yours ever," &c.

* * * * *

Of the same date with this melancholy letter are the following verses,
never before printed, which he wrote in answer to some lines received
from a friend, exhorting him to be cheerful, and to "banish care." They
will show with what gloomy fidelity, even while under the pressure of
recent sorrow, he reverted to the disappointment of his early affection,
as the chief source of all his sufferings and errors, present and to
come.

"Newstead Abbey, October 11. 1811.

"'Oh! banish care'--such ever be
The motto of _thy_ revelry!
Perchance of _mine_, when wassail nights
Renew those riotous delights,
Wherewith the children of Despair
Lull the lone heart, and 'banish care.'
But not in morn's reflecting hour,
When present, past, and future lower,
When all I loved is changed or gone,
Mock with such taunts the woes of one,
Whose every thought--but let them pass--
Thou know'st I am not what I was.
But, above all, if thou wouldst hold
Place in a heart that ne'er was cold,