11. Robert Southey to Grosvenor Charles Bedford, [c. 31 May 1792]*

Dear Bedford

At last I can sit down & write the confession of my sins — I have left undone those things which I ought to have done. but a long journey to Brighton two days hard drinking there & (if I do not mind a lie) two days repentance after one day returning no post the next may plead my excuse & acquire absolution or remission of my sins. I have observed every man I saw with the eye of a periodical writer & noted him in my pocket book. I have likewise wrote a paper upon wigs but alas the only chance my paper upon wigs has of ever seeing the public is in the fag end of the Flagellant when we reprint it. Bedford when I left you last I thought that we might print all the letters we received at the end & so make a pretty sized volume.

you understand music. as I am ignorant of the tune I beg you will practise Lillabullero¹ to teach me. you see I have been reading Tristram Shandy & I want that whistle as bad as ever Toby did.² Watsons Chemical Essay³ are my present study & I hope to practice a little chemistry at Oxford when I get there.

have you settled the accounts with Jeffery⁴ & Egerton?

Look ye I am lazy. I cannot write a decent letter so take this to fill up.

The adieu to Birch

in imitation of

Della Crusca.⁵

Go purple twig I scorn thy powerThornful & sharp without a flowerThe quivering pang the thrilling smartWake not the crimson anguish of my heartNo more upon thy trembling sideSits Hope with jaundiced Fear alliedThe sable majesty of unborn hairScorns not terrific now my prayer.Now may each wandering saffron gale“The essence of the morn exhaleAnd pour the Empurpling slumbers on my breastAnd fan my Latin & my Greek to rest —Yes reckless I may sleep of thee“So fare thee well, for I am free.

________________

Remember I think Della Crusca frequently affected. but in spite of the cry of criticism I think him often beautiful. Watts⁶ I have already imitated. & almost finishd Spenser. Shenstone⁷ I attempt next.

Yes now I may view the white sheep In search of their provender strayUp the side of the steep hillock creep Or wind by the fountains their way —I may view the groves mountains & dale And in distance declining the churchI may wander all day in the vales For I am not afraid of the birch &c &c

So gruffly he sent me away I thought he had bid me come back

all this is the very first sketch which twenty minutes will fill up. you see in spite of laziness here is a to-ler-ra-bly long letter but breakfast is ready the tea making Tom Lamb tying up his boots & his mother pouring out the tea — so quicks the word — yours.

R Southey.