see by the enclosed account that the remaining number of drawings which you gave me orders for is eighteen. I will finish these with all possible expedition, if indeed I have not tired you, or, as it is politely called, bored you too much already; or, if you would rather cry out : "Enough, off, off!" Tell me in a letter of forgiveness if you were offended, and of accustomed friendship if you were not. But I will bore you more with some verses which my wife desires me to copy out and send you with her kind love and respect. They were composed above a twelvemonth ago, while walking from Felpham to Lavant, to meet my sister :
With happiness stretch'd across the hills,
In a cloud that dewy sweetness distills,
With a blue sky spread over with wings,[1]
And a mild sun that mounts & sings ;
With trees & fields, full of Fairy elves,
And little devils who fight for themselves —
Remembering the Verses that Hayley sung
When my heart knock'd against the root of my tongue —
With Angels planted in Hawthorn bowers,
And God Himself in the passing hours ;
With Silver Angels across my way.
And Golden demons that none can stay;
With my Father hovering upon the wind.
And my Brother Robert[2] just behind.
And my Brother John,[3] the evil one,
In a black cloud making his mone ;
