69. Robert Southey to Horace Walpole Bedford, 13–16 November 1793*
College Green. Wednesday. 1/2 past six evening. Nov 13. 93.
Oh Horace oh Woe Bedford woe Oh oh Woe woe Woe woe Oh oh Which you can never know Unless I tell you so — I must to dinner goAnd I shall think it is hardIf I do not dine well tho your letter sticks in my gizzardAy & whats worse I swearTenpennyworth of halfpence sticking there.
As I am a sinner I made a good dinner.Then to the post office I walkd again henceTo rid my stomach of this odious ten penceFor of your letter the expence (Tho on the outside as you ought Single you had wrote)Amounted unto fifteen pence!I raved & said & almost then had sworeFive pennys was the price & I would pay no moreSo to the post office with this intentWhen I had eat my midday meal I wentAnd there (for the post men demurred not) The ten pence got.
Lift aloud the mirthful cry To tenpence! To I!
———
Time ruthless deity — how swift thy way Thou wing’st when Pleasure fills the short livd hour —And rich Delight would lengthen out the day — And pour the prayer to thee unsparing power —Yet how thy wings their lagging course delay When stern Misfortunes clouds tremendous lower —And baleful Misery lifts her venomd dartAnd Sorrows lethal dews ychill the drooping heart
Thus oer Silurias fields1 where Vegas course2 Meanders wild & paints the flowery plainWhen Summer drys the earth with arid force The fearful farmer invocates for rainAnon when Winter comes with tempests hoarse The torrent rolls along with force amainSweeps in resistless fury oer the groundFrom Cambrias mountains black & deluges around
Oh I have prayed thee erst to stay thy flight And check the current of the hastening dayWhen passd the blissful hours in full delight And blameless Pleasure held Elysian swayThen have I bannd the moments swift wingd flight And wishd but wishd in vain their course to stayFor soon the sun shot down the western steepAnd I retird alone in darksome woe to weep.
And I have prayd thee in the hour of woe, When rankling Sorrow sped her iron dartDeep in this breast, with added speed to go And to my ills some distant hope impart —That as the rapid waves eternal flow Some transient gleam of bliss might chear my <heart>Then Time hast thou despisd my suppliant prayerAnd loaded every hour with lingering deep despair.
I invocate no more — my shielded breast Mocks at thy rage & spurns thy ruthless powerBy thee Philosophy in peace possest I fly from Miserys soul afflicting showr — And lull Regrets stern voice at length to rest And give to Apathy the listless hourAnd only wish thy transient reign was oerAnd I was landed safe upon the unknown shore.
That unknown shore where husht in endless peace Affliction drops at length her rankling dartAnd Deaths stern sway relaxd to listless ease Chills with oblivious dews the slumbering heartWhere every joy & every grief shall cease Nor Woe shall feel Remembrance poignant smartBut kind Oblivion still her sway shall keepAnd hush the harrowed soul in one eternal sleep.
Fill high the lethal bowl. shall Man endure The load of sorrow & the weight of woe?Fill high the lethal bowl — the eternal cure And waft the spirit to the shades belowFill high the lethal bowl — let grief inure The mind to think of Death no more a foeTill stern Despair shall lift the bowl on highAnd Sorrow sink to rest without one fearful sigh.
—————
Ah Time how slow thy moments flyWhen Sorrow heaves the loaded sigh And glooms the darkling day —How often have I pourd the prayerHow often filld with deep despair Ybannd thy dull delay.
Now when Philosophys kind artHas fenced from every ill my heart — Roll on thy stream in peace —And I no more to thee will prayOr urge thy flight or ask thy stay For Apathy is ease
Be mine to read the classic pageRetrace each old heroic age And live in long past daysWith Hector3 dare the patriot warMourn oer Achilles4 murderous car And curse the heroes bays.
Be mine oer many a realm to roamWith him exild from long lovd home The much enduring chiefBe mine to heave the heartfelt sighWhen Fancy sees old Argus5 die — And seek from tears relief
Oer Marathons6 embattled plainOr oer Jamappe7 stern Slaughters reign Be mine the exulting glow —Or wrapt in Sorrows darksome gloomOer Socrates or Brissots8 tomb To drop the tear of woe.
And let me high in hope attendThe welcome letter from my friend And break in haste the sealThen rush the friendly lines to readOer every word ten times proceed And still fresh pleasure feel.9
——————
Saturday Nov 16.
I lay down Leonidas10 to go on with your letter. it has ever been a favorite poem with me — I have read it perhaps <more> frequently than any other composition & always with renewd pleasure. it possesses not the “thoughts that breathe & words that burn”11 but there is a something very different from those strong efforts of imagination that pleases the judgment & feed the fancy without moving the heart. the interest I feel in the poem is perhaps chiefly owing to the subject — certainly the noblest ever undertaken. it needs no argument to prove this assertion. Miltons is above comparison & stands alone as much from the singularity of the subject as the excellence of the diction. there remains Homer Virgil Lucan Statius S Italicus & V Flaccus12 among the antients. I recollect no others — & amongst these subjects you will find none so interesting as the the self devoted Leonidas
among the moderns we know Ariosto Tasso Camoens13 Voltaire — & our own immortal Spenser. the other Italian authors in this line & the Spanish ones I know not.
indeed that period of history upon which both Glovers epics14 are founded is the grandest ever yet displayd. a constellation of such men never honord mankind at any other time or at least never were calld into the energy of action. Leonidas & his immortal band Æschylus Themistocles & Aristides the perfect republican.15 even the satellites of Xerxes16 were dignified by Artemisia17 & the injurd Spartan Demaratus.18 to look back into the page of history — to be present at Thermopylæ — at Salamis & Platæa19 to hear the song of Æschylus & the lessons of Aristides & then — behold what Greece is — how fallen even below contempt — is one of the most miserable reflections the classic mind can endure. what a republic! what a province!
If this world did but contain ten thousand people of both sexes visionary as myself how delightfully would we repeople Greece & turn out the Moslem. I would turn crusader & make a pilgrimage to Parnassus20 at the head of my republicans (NB — only lawful head) & there reinstate the muses in their original splendour. we would build a temple to Eleutherian Jove21 from the quarries of Paphos.22 replant the groves of Academus.23 aye & the garden of Epicurus24 where your brother & I would commence teachers — yes your brother — for if he would not comb out the powder & fling away the poultices to embark in such an expedition he deserves to be made a German Elector or a West Indian Planter. Charles Collins should occupy the chair of Plato (pretty Plato) & hold forth to the Societas scientium literariorum studiosorum (not unaptly stiled the society of knowing ones) & we would actually send for Sawkins25 to represent Euclid.26 now could I lay down the whole plan — build my house in the prettiest Doric stile — plant out the garden like Wolmars27 & imagine just such a family to walk in it — when here comes a rascal by crying Hare skins & rabbit skins — & my poor house which was built in the air falls to pieces & leaves me like most such visionary projectors staring at disappointment.
with a friend you say you would have no reserve. for the future have none with me. surely reserve in trifles would be unworthy of both. make your requests known & you know my will, ability I cannot so certainly promise. when we meet at Oxford which I hope we shall in January there are a hundred things better communicated in conversation than by correspondence. I have no object of pursuit in life — but to fill the passing hour & fit myself for death: beyond these views I have nothing — to be of service to my friends would be serving myself most essentially — & there are few enterprizes however hazardous & however romantic in which I would not most willingly engage.
it was the favorite intention of Cowley28 to retire with his books to a cottage in America & seek that happiness in solitude which he could not find in society. my asylum there would be sought for different reasons (& no prospect in life gives me half the pleasure this visionary one affords.) I should be pleased to reside in country where mere abilities would ensure respect. where society was upon a proper footing & Man was considered as more valuable than money & where I could till the earth & provide by honest industry the meal which my wife would dress with pleasing care. redeunt spectacula mane29 reason comes with the end of the paper
yrs most sincerelyR Southey.
remember me respectfully to all friends.
beg Grosvenor to send the rest of my baggage as soon as convenient. I want bear & boots. you have read of puss in boots? why not not bear likewise?
write soon.30
Notes
Address: Horace
Walpole Bedford Esqr/ Old Palace Yard/ Westminster/
Single
Stamped: BRISTOL
Postmark: NO/ 18/ 93
Watermarks: Figure
of Britannia; G R in a circle
Seal: Red wax [design
illegible]
Endorsement: Recd. Mond. 13th. Oct./ 1793
[The endorsement is misdated October.]
MS: Bodleian Library, MS Eng.
Lett. c. 22
Previously published: Charles Cuthbert Southey (ed.), Life and Correspondence of Robert Southey, 6 vols
(London, 1849–1850), I, pp. 191–194 [in part; a section from the 13 November
section is misdated 16 November]. Back
1. A poetic name for South Wales, derived from the Silures who had inhabited the area in Roman times. Back
2. Vega was the Latin name for the River Wye. Back
3. In the Iliad, the son of Priam, King of Troy. Back
4. A Greek hero, whose exploits are described in the Iliad. He killed Hector and dragged his body round the walls of Troy behind his chariot. Back
5. In the Odyssey, Book 17, Odysseus’ dog, who recognises his master on his return home after twenty years and then dies. Back
6. The Greek victory over the Persians at the battle of Marathon 490 BC. Back
7. The battle of Jemappes, 6 November 1792, saw the defeat of the Austrians and their allies by the French General Charles-Francois du Perier Dumouriez (1739–1823). Both sides sustained heavy casualties. Back
8. Jacques Pierre Brissot (1754–1793), a leading Girondist, was executed in October 1793. Back
9. Oh Horace ... feel: Verse written in double columns. Back
10. Richard Glover (1712–1785; DNB), Leonidas, A Poem (1737). Back
11. Thomas Gray (1716–1771; DNB), ‘The Progress of Poesy. A Pindaric Ode’ (1757), III. 3, line 4. Back
12. The epic poets Marcus Annaeus Lucanus (AD 39–65), author of the Pharsalia; Publius Papinius Statius (c. AD 45–96), author of Thebaid; Tiberius Catius Silius Italicus (c. AD 25–101), author of Punica; Gaius Valerius Flaccus (died c. AD 90), author of Argonautica. Back
13. The poets Lodovico Ariosto (1474–1533); Torquato Tasso (1544–1595); Luis Vaz de Camoëns (1524–1580). Back
14. Richard Glover, Leonidas, A Poem (1737) and The Athenaid, published posthumously in 1787. Back
15. Leonidas, King of Sparta (reigned 487–480 BC), killed at the battle of Thermopylae; Æschylus (525–456 BC), writer of tragedy, who fought at the battles of Salamis and Platæa; Themistocles (c. 528–462 BC), Athenian statesman and general, victor at the naval battle of Salamis; Aristides (c. 530–468 BC), Athenian statesman and general. Back
16. King of Persia (reigned 486–465 BC), who invaded Greece and was defeated at the battles of Salamis and Platæa. Back
17. Artemisia I of Caria, ruler of Halicarnassus, fought bravely on the side of Xerxes in the Battle of Salamis, 480 BC. See Richard Glover, Leonidas, A Poem (London, 1737), p. 307, for ‘the martial queen of Caria’. Back
18. Demaratus, King of Sparta 519–491 BC. Deposed, he fled to Persia and accompanied Xerxes in his invasion of Greece. See Richard Glover, Leonidas, A Poem (London, 1737), p. ii. Back
19. Three battles fought by Greeks against Persian invaders: Thermopylae and Salamis (both 480 BC) and Platæa (479 BC). Back
20. In Greek mythology, Mount Parnassus was the home of the Muses. Back
21. The festival celebrated at Platæa in honour of Jupiter Eleutherius as the asserter of liberty. It was instituted after the Greek victory over the Persians in 479 BC. Back
22. A town in Cyprus, centre of the cult of Aphrodite. Back
23. A place near Athens dedicated to the hero Academus, and the site of Plato’s school of philosophy, the Academia. Back
24. Epicurus (341–270 BC), philosopher, founder of Epicureanism, who reputedly taught in his garden in Athens. His school was therefore known as ‘the Garden’. Back
25. Possibly Charles Sawkins (d. 1818), educated at Christ Church, Oxford, BA 1778, and from 1797, Perpetual Curate of Binsey, Oxfordshire. Back
26. Euclid of Alexandria (dates uncertain, between 325 and 250 BC), mathematician. Back
27. In Jean-Jacques Rousseau’s (1712–1778) Julie, ou la Nouvelle Héloïse (1761), the tutor Saint-Preux, his lover Julie and her husband Baron Wolmar create an ideal virtuous life on the Wolmars’s estate at Clarens by Lake Geneva. Back
28. Abraham Cowley (1618–1667; DNB), royalist poet. Back
29. A commonplace saying, which can be translated as ‘spectacles return by morning’. Back
30. beg ... soon: Written on the address section. Back