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<title type="main">The Collected Letters of Robert Southey. Part 1: 1791-1797 </title>
<title type="subordinate">A Romantic Circles Electronic Edition</title>
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<name>Southey, Robert, 1774-1843</name>
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<p>Bodleian Library, MS Eng.
                        Lett. c. 22.  Previously  published: Kenneth Curry (ed.), New Letters of Robert Southey, 2 vols (London and New York,
                        1965), I, pp. 52–53 [in part; verses not reproduced].</p>
<p>These letters were edited with the assistance of Carol Bolton, Tim Fulford and Ian Packer</p>
<p>For permission to publish the text of MSS in their possession, the editor wishes to thank the Beinecke Rare
											Books and Manuscript Library, Yale University; Berg Collection of English and American Literature, The New
											York Public Library, Astor, Lenox and Tilden Foundations; the Bodleian Library Oxford University; the
											British Library; Boston Public Library; the Syndics of Cambridge University Library; the Syndics of the
											Fitzwilliam Museum Cambridge; Haverford College, Connecticut; the Historical Society of Pennsylvania; the
											Hornby Library, Liverpool Libraries and Information Services; the Houghton Library, Harvard University;
											the John Rylands Library, Manchester; the Kenneth Spencer Research Library, University of Kansas; Luton
											Museum (Bedfordshire County Council); Massachusetts Historical Society; McGill University Library; the
											National Library of Scotland; the Newberry Library, Chicago; the New York Public Library (Pforzheimer
											Collections); the Pierpont Morgan Library, New York; the Public Record Offices of Bedford, Suffolk (Bury
											St Edmunds) and Northumberland, the Master and Fellows of Trinity College, Cambridge; the Society of
											Antiquaries of Newcastle upon Tyne; the Trustees of the William Salt Library, Stafford, the Wisbech and
											Fenland Museum; the University of Virginia Library.</p>
<p>A research grant from the British Academy made much of the archival work possible, as did support from the
											English Department of Nottingham Trent University.</p>
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<div n="86" type="letter">
<head>86. Robert Southey to <ref target="people.html#BedfordGrosvenorCharles">Grosvenor Charles Bedford</ref>, <date when="1794-04-13">13 April
                        1794</date>
<note place="foot" resp="editors" type="headnote">Address: Grosvenor Charles
                        Bedford Esq<hi rend="superscript">r</hi>./ New Palace Yard/ Westminster./
                        Single<lb/> Stamped: BRISTOL<lb/>Postmark: AAP/ 15/ 94<lb/>Watermarks: G R
                        in a circle; figure of Britannia<lb/>Endorsements: Wrote to R.S. Ap<hi rend="sup">l</hi>. 11/ 1794; Received this Ap<hi rend="sup">l</hi>. 14.
                        &amp; 15<hi rend="sup">th</hi>/ 1794<lb/>MS: Bodleian Library, MS Eng.
                        Lett. c. 22<lb/>Previously published: Kenneth Curry (ed.), <title level="m">New Letters of Robert Southey</title>, 2 vols (London and New York,
                        1965), I, pp. 52–53 [in part; verses not reproduced].</note>
</head>
<opener>
<dateline rend="right">
<address>
<placeName>
<ref target="places.html#CollegeGreenBristol">College Green. Bristol.</ref>
</placeName>
</address>
<date when="1794-04-13">April 13<hi rend="sup">th</hi>. Sunday. 1794</date>
</dateline>
<salute>My dear Grosvenor</salute>
</opener>
<p rend="indent1"> tis a long while since any thing in the shape of a letter has
                    reachd me from your part of the world. <ref target="people.html#BedfordHoraceWalpole">your brother</ref> is obstinate
                    either in anger or in system. you are busied in the concerns of the nation —
                    &amp; I have been — at Oxford the worst place in the world for letter
                    writing. Friday morning. <ref target="people.html#BurnettGeorge">Burnett</ref>
                    called me before the clock struck three. up I got — we breakfasted &amp;
                    talked till five when I departed in the Mail. the folly of my companions
                    taciturnified me — their frigidity of intellect petrified my organs of voice.
                    his most amorous <ref target="people.html#CombeEdward">Majesty</ref> was an
                    outside passenger but I could not approach his person &amp; was silent all
                    the way. the next morning I conveyd my baggage to the inn. &amp; secured a
                    place in the Caravan newly launched on the plan of your Greenwich machines.<note n="1" place="foot" resp="editors">Specially designed long coaches which
                        could carry more passengers than a standard coach.</note> this was seven o
                    clock &amp; the coach was to set out at eight. I walked on leisurely. the
                    morning was warm &amp; when I had got four miles — I sat me down by a brook
                    to wait the coach. the spot was within a mile of the school where some of my
                    younger days were passed.<note n="2" place="foot" resp="editors">This incident
                        inspired Southey’s ‘To a Brook near the Village of Corston’, published in
                            <title level="m">Poems</title> (1797).</note> &amp; upon viewing the
                    course of the brook I discovered it to the same in which every morning I washed
                    my hands &amp; face. the lapse of twelve years have not obliterated one
                    image from my memory — &amp; I have seldom past half an hour more agreably
                    in solitude than the one yesterday morning. the caravan came — in I went —
                    &amp; away to Bristol.</p>
<p rend="indent1"> there is something in the recollection of scenes of childhood
                    that give a pleasing melancholy to the mind. I remember the various hours of
                    alternate gaiety &amp; sorrow, business &amp; play that diversied my
                    time at Corston. on this subject Bowles<note n="3" place="foot" resp="editors">William Lisle Bowles (1762–1850; <title level="m">DNB</title>).</note> has
                    written so very beautiful a sonnet, that I am sure the inserting it will delight
                    you. </p>
<p rend="indent3">To the river Itchin near Winton<note n="4" place="foot" resp="editors">First published in William Lisle Bowles, <title level="m">Fourteen Sonnets, Elegiac and Descriptive. Written during a
                            Tour</title> (1789).</note>
</p>
<p rend="indent5"> ————</p>
<lg type="stanza">
<l rend="indent2">Itchin when I behold thy banks again,</l>
<l rend="indent3"> Thy crumbling margin &amp; thy silver breast</l>
<l rend="indent3"> On which the self-same tints still seem to rest,</l>
<l rend="indent2">Why feels my heart the shivering sense of pain?</l>
<l rend="indent2">Is it — that many a summers day has past</l>
<l rend="indent3"> Since in Lifes morn I carold on thy side?</l>
<l rend="indent3"> Is it that oft since then my heart has sighd</l>
<l rend="indent2">As Youth &amp; Hopes delusive gleams flew fast?</l>
<l rend="indent3"> Is it — that those who circled on thy shore</l>
<l rend="indent3"> Companions of my youth, now meet no more?</l>
<l rend="indent2">Whateer the cause, upon thy banks I bend</l>
<l rend="indent3"> Sorrowing — yet feel such solace at my heart,</l>
<l rend="indent2">As at the meeting of some long lost friend</l>
<l rend="indent3"> From whom in happier hours we wept to part.</l>
</lg>
<p rend="indent1"> The author of this sonnet, tho indisputably one of the first
                    poets of the day, is little known. he was of Trinity College Oxford. I have only
                    seen his sonnets — they are so scarce that a friend of mine<note n="5" place="foot" resp="editors">Southey’s friend is unidentified.</note>
                    transcribed them, &amp; so beautiful that I have copied his transcription. </p>
<p rend="indent1"> now <ref target="people.html#BedfordGrosvenorCharles">Grosvenor</ref> I have two pieces of poetry of a very different nature to
                    fill up my letter. the first is by <ref target="people.html#AllenRobert">an
                        undergraduate</ref> whom I saw at the Anatomy School — physiognomised,
                    &amp; introduced myself to. a man of extraordinary ability.</p>
<p rend="indent5"> To a Painter</p>
<p rend="indent4">from Anacreon<note n="6" place="foot" resp="editors">The Greek
                        lyric poet Anacreon (fl. C6 BC). Allen’s translation of Anacreon’s <title level="m">Ode</title>, no. 16, follows.</note>
</p>
<p rend="indent5"> ————</p>
<lg type="stanza">
<l rend="indent2">O skilld each mimic grace to wake</l>
<l rend="indent2">Thy all creative pencil take —</l>
<l rend="indent2">Master of the rosy art</l>
<l rend="indent2">To my rapturd eye impart</l>
<l rend="indent2">The form thats picturd on my heart.</l>
<l rend="indent2">Thy pencil from my love-strung lyre</l>
<l rend="indent2">Shall catch Expressions vivid fire.</l>
<l rend="indent2">Artist — be it first thy care</l>
<l rend="indent2">Soft &amp; black to paint her hair,</l>
<l rend="indent2">And if thy skill such power can show</l>
<l rend="indent2">Breathing odours let it flow.</l>
<l rend="indent2">Paint her forehead gleaming white</l>
<l rend="indent2">Thro her ringlets dewy-bright —</l>
<l rend="indent2">Where each eye-brows wont to end</l>
<l rend="indent2">In her nor seperate nor blend</l>
<l rend="indent2">But let the arches of her brow</l>
<l rend="indent2">An union in partition show.</l>
<l rend="indent2">Paint her speaking eye of fire</l>
<l rend="indent2">Kindling flames of fierce desire</l>
<l rend="indent2">Like Minervas to my view</l>
<l rend="indent2">Let it rise celestial blue —</l>
<l rend="indent2">And as hers who yokes the dove</l>
<l rend="indent2">Let it swim in liquid love.</l>
<l rend="indent2">The nose &amp; cheeks must boast an hue</l>
<l rend="indent2">Like roses bathed in milky dew.</l>
<l rend="indent2">Her lips imbued with nectard bliss</l>
<l rend="indent2">Must swell to meet the eager kiss.</l>
<l rend="indent2">Let her polishd neck below</l>
<l rend="indent2">Like the Parian marble glow</l>
<l rend="indent2">While round it all the graces fly</l>
<l rend="indent2">That hold &amp; charm the Lovers eye.</l>
<l rend="indent2">Hide beneath a purple vest</l>
<l rend="indent2">Modest Artist — hide the rest.</l>
<l rend="indent2">Yet still some little be reveald</l>
<l rend="indent2">To show what treasures are conceald.</l>
<l rend="indent2">Enough! no picturd Maid is she</l>
<l rend="indent2">Herself her lovely self I see.<note n="7" place="foot" resp="editors">O skilld … I see: Verse in double columns.</note>
</l>
</lg>
<p rend="indent5"> ———</p>
<p>the four last lines run more literally thus.</p>
<lg type="stanza">
<l rend="indent2">Yet let some little glisten thro</l>
<l rend="indent2">To show what charms are kept from view</l>
<l rend="indent2">Enough — no absent Maid I seek</l>
<l rend="indent2">Soon wonderous portrait — soon youll speak.</l>
</lg>
<p rend="indent5"> ———</p>
<p rend="indent1"> This translation pleases me much. <ref target="people.html#CollinsCharles">Charles Collins</ref> has met the author
                    at my rooms &amp; taken a great liking to him. by the by poor <ref target="people.html#CollinsCharles">Carlo</ref> has met with a grievous
                    misfortune. Don Quixotes library has been purged. Wynn &amp; I — guess whats
                    to come. the Curate &amp; the Barber — twas a good fire. the book case open.
                        Jack<note n="8" place="foot" resp="editors">A reference to Johannes Secundus
                        (1511–1536), <title level="m">Liber Basiorum</title> (<title level="m">Book
                            of Kisses</title>), published in 1541.</note> you know is of an
                    inflammable nature &amp; he burnt well. <ref target="people.html#WynnCharlesWW">Wynn</ref> &amp; Maule<note n="9" place="foot" resp="editors">George Maule (d. 1851), educated at Westminster
                        School and Christ Church (matric. 1793, BA 1797, MA 1800). He was a friend
                        of Southey’s during his time at Oxford, and possibly during his school days.
                        Maule pursued a legal career, and in 1818 was made Solicitor to the
                        Treasury.</note> held <ref target="people.html#CollinsCharles">Signor
                        Carlo</ref> on the sofa &amp; I burnt Jack. next morning Maule carried
                    off La Pucelle<note n="10" place="foot" resp="editors">
<title level="m">La
                            Pucelle</title> (1755–1762), a mock-epic poem by Voltaire
                        (1694–1778).</note> &amp; poor <ref target="people.html#CollinsCharles">Collins</ref> has nothing luscious left to amuse himself with except
                    Solomons Song &amp; the story of Potiphars Wife.<note n="11" place="foot" resp="editors">
<title level="m">The Song of Solomon</title> is concerned
                        with secular love. <title level="m">Genesis</title> 39: 7–19 describes the
                        attempts of Potiphar’s wife to seduce Joseph.</note> we made a most
                    incomparable ballad on the subject. a parody of the Son of Alknomok<note n="12" place="foot" resp="editors">The popular ballad composed by Anne Hunter
                        (1742–1821; <title level="m">DNB</title>) and anthologised as 'The
                        Death-Song of a Cherokee Indian' in [Joseph Ritson (1752–1803; <title level="m">DNB</title>)], <title level="m">A Select Collection of English
                            Songs,</title> 3 vols (London, 1783), I, p. ii.</note>
</p>
<p> “But Ill buy my Johannes Secundus again.”</p>
<p rend="indent3">Ode to my Stick yclept the Sans Culottes</p>
<p rend="indent5"> —————</p>
<lg type="stanza">
<l rend="indent3">O worthy to be sung in loftiest lays</l>
<l rend="indent4"> Stay of my steps along the rugged road.</l>
<l rend="indent3">I strike the lyre to hymn thy praise</l>
<l rend="indent4"> To thee I write an ode.</l>
<l rend="indent4"> The laurel wreath I spread</l>
<l rend="indent4"> To deck thy holly head</l>
<l rend="indent2">For with thy upright frame &amp; strenuous crook</l>
<l rend="indent2">Thou hast a very democratic look.</l>
</lg>
<lb/>
<lg type="stanza">
<l rend="indent3">Truth fill thy votaries strains —</l>
<l rend="indent4"> Thy influence lend </l>
<l rend="indent4"> So may the world attend</l>
<l rend="indent3">And learn morality from Sticks &amp; Canes.</l>
</lg>
<lb/>
<lg type="stanza">
<l rend="indent3">And here I would reform an ugly trick</l>
<l rend="indent4"> In a parenthesis.</l>
<l rend="indent4"> For if a Parson preach amiss</l>
<l rend="indent3">The folks will say he is a Stick.</l>
<l rend="indent4"> A title very wrong</l>
<l rend="indent2">His prattle being weak &amp; sticks being strong.</l>
</lg>
<lb/>
<lg type="stanza">
<l rend="indent3">World of the wise &amp; unwise list my strains</l>
<l rend="indent4"> Ye who use sticks the strong</l>
<l rend="indent4"> And ye more numerous throng</l>
<l rend="indent3">That strut about with canes.</l>
<l rend="indent4"> For I will show</l>
<l rend="indent2">That a fashionable cane is like a fashionable Beau.</l>
</lg>
<lb/>
<lg type="stanza">
<l rend="indent4"> What is a Beau?</l>
<l rend="indent3">Oh God of Definitions be my friend!</l>
<l rend="indent3">Spirits of Lexicographers descend.</l>
<l rend="indent4"> What is a Beau?</l>
<l rend="indent4"> Is it a man or no?</l>
</lg>
<lb/>
<lg type="stanza">
<l rend="indent3">When at some mighty call</l>
<l rend="indent2">Pards lyons tygers buffaloes grew tame —</l>
<l rend="indent3">And the fierce Ouran outangs all</l>
<l rend="indent2">With all his cousin apes round Adam came</l>
<l rend="indent2">Each to receive from him his destind name —</l>
<l rend="indent3">Did he the Father of mankind or no</l>
<l rend="indent3">Behold one Beau?</l>
</lg>
<lb/>
<lg type="stanza">
<l rend="indent3">Tom Paine<note n="13" place="foot" resp="editors">Thomas Paine
                            (1737–1809; <title level="m">DNB</title>), author of <title level="m">The Rights of Man</title> (1791–1792).</note> has said</l>
<l rend="indent2">(And Thomas never speaks without good cause)</l>
<l rend="indent2">That Lords &amp; Dukes were never known to Adam.</l>
<l rend="indent3">It may perhaps appear against the laws</l>
<l rend="indent4"> Thus to declare that I his book have read.</l>
<l rend="indent2">And M<hi rend="sup">r</hi> Reeves<note n="14" place="foot" resp="editors">On 20 November 1792, John Reeves (1752–1829; <title level="m">DNB</title>) established the Association for Preserving
                            Liberty and Property against Republicans and Levellers.</note> may say
                        that I a traitor bad am.</l>
<l rend="indent3">But more than Tom has said shall Robert sing.</l>
<l rend="indent3">I say that Adam never knew a King.</l>
<l rend="indent3">And since nor Kings nor Courts did Adam know</l>
<l rend="indent2">By what strange miracle could he have seen a Beau?</l>
</lg>
<lb/>
<lg type="stanza">
<l rend="indent4"> Do coral rocks produce green peas?</l>
<l rend="indent4"> Do Oysters grow on Cherry trees?</l>
<l rend="indent4"> When Nature only reignd the Queen</l>
<l rend="indent4"> How could a Beau be seen!</l>
</lg>
<lb/>
<lg type="stanza">
<l rend="indent3">Twere hard to say what a Beau is</l>
<l rend="indent4"> To say what he is not is easy.</l>
<l rend="indent3">I will do this</l>
<l rend="indent4"> To please ye.</l>
</lg>
<lb/>
<lg type="stanza">
<l rend="indent4"> He does not bear the upright manly gait</l>
<l rend="indent3">Which honest Independance loves to wear</l>
<l rend="indent3">He knows not firm in Stoic strength to bear</l>
<l rend="indent3">The ills of Fortune &amp; the frowns of Fate.</l>
<l rend="indent3">Nor his the sinewy form the open eye</l>
<l rend="indent3">The fearless front of virtuous honesty.</l>
<l rend="indent3">Nor firm on Freedoms adamantine rock</l>
<l rend="indent3">Dares he to brave Oppressions powerful shock</l>
<l rend="indent3">To breathe Defiance in his parting breath</l>
<l rend="indent3">Smile on the scaffold — &amp; exult in Death.</l>
</lg>
<lb/>
<lg type="stanza">
<l rend="indent3">Oh Bruin Bruin Bruin Bruin bear</l>
<l rend="indent4"> Do not from Alpine heights descend</l>
<l rend="indent4"> Do not thy journey to the valleys bend —</l>
<l rend="indent3">For ah — thou knowest not all the dangers there.</l>
<l rend="indent3">Poor brother Bruin if thou shouldest be caught</l>
<l rend="indent3">Thou dost not know thy lamentable lot!</l>
<l rend="indent3">Wouldst thou conceive that Man should bore thy nose</l>
<l rend="indent3">Teach thee to dance &amp; eke turn out thy toes,</l>
<l rend="indent3">And call the crowd around &amp; play his flute</l>
<l rend="indent3">Till he himself appears the greatest brute.</l>
<l rend="indent4"> Ah Bruin Bruin</l>
<l rend="indent3">Much do I feel for thee poor Bruin Bear!</l>
<l rend="indent4"> These wicked Beaus will prove thy ruin</l>
<l rend="indent3">And take thy grease to grease their Asses hair.</l>
</lg>
<lb/>
<lg type="stanza">
<l rend="indent6"> This plasters oer the Beau.</l>
<l rend="indent4"> And Corn that most inestimable treasure</l>
<l rend="indent2">{Which by the by is ten shillings &amp; nine pence</l>
<l rend="indent2">{A bushel Winchester measure<note n="15" place="foot" resp="editors">A system of weights and measures, particularly used for
                            ale and wine.</note>
</l>
<l rend="indent3">He showers upon his greasy pate like snow.</l>
<l rend="indent4"> Then when the Barbers fashionable trade</l>
<l rend="indent4"> The gentleman has made</l>
<l rend="indent2">He takes his cane &amp; walks on the parade.</l>
</lg>
<lb/>
<lg type="stanza">
<l rend="indent3">When the Heads outside takes such pains</l>
<l rend="indent2">Ah who will wonder at the lack of brains.</l>
</lg>
<lb/>
<lg type="stanza">
<l rend="indent3">And now I come to show</l>
<l rend="indent3">Wherein the cane is like the Beau.</l>
<l rend="indent3">Is the Cane good for anything? — no.</l>
<l rend="indent4"> Is the Beau?</l>
<l rend="indent3">Does &lt;it&gt; not bend if any one leans low?</l>
<l rend="indent4"> So does the Beau.</l>
<l rend="indent3">When wandering on fatigued &amp; slow</l>
<l rend="indent2">The Pilgrim creeps along the lengthening plain —</l>
<l rend="indent2">Does he derive assistance from the Cane?</l>
<l rend="indent3">And who derives assistance from the Beau?</l>
<l rend="indent2">In this they differ, &amp; in this alone,</l>
<l rend="indent3">The cane had come to something good it may be,</l>
<l rend="indent2">If it amid the wood uncropt had grown,</l>
<l rend="indent3">The Beau will always be a Baby.</l>
</lg>
<lb/>
<lg type="stanza">
<l rend="indent3">Thus in an excellent comparison</l>
<l rend="indent3">I prove the Cane &amp; Beau are as one.</l>
</lg>
<lb/>
<lg type="stanza">
<l rend="indent2">Stick of Democracy — Stick Sans Culottes</l>
<l rend="indent2">To thee I tune my democratic note</l>
<l rend="indent2">Leveller the mighty thou resemblest me</l>
<l rend="indent2">And I a stick myself resemble thee.</l>
</lg>
<lb/>
<lg type="stanza">
<l rend="indent3">Unknown to bend art thou.</l>
<l rend="indent3">And I unknown to bow.</l>
<l rend="indent2">And tall &amp; thin art thou. &amp; so am I.</l>
<l rend="indent3">And ungenteel thy shape nor nice nor <del rend="strikethrough">neat</del>
</l>
<l rend="indent3">So that when we together walk the street</l>
<l rend="indent2">We catch the passing puppys wondering eye.</l>
</lg>
<lb/>
<lg type="stanza">
<l rend="indent2">Nor Sans Culottes — thy strenuous bulk was made</l>
<l rend="indent2">To saunter up &amp; down the South Parade —</l>
<l rend="indent2">Nor I to move amid the minuets maze.</l>
<l rend="indent3">But when we’re together</l>
<l rend="indent3">We defy wind &amp; weather</l>
<l rend="indent2">And merrily trudgest along the long ways.</l>
</lg>
<lb/>
<lg type="stanza">
<l rend="indent2">Supporter of my strength. for oft tried aid</l>
<l rend="indent2">For succor very very oft displayd</l>
<l rend="indent2">Because thy strength has saved me many a fall</l>
<l rend="indent2">In fine for all thy bounties one &amp; all</l>
<l rend="indent2">Felt on the pathless heath &amp; rugged road</l>
<l rend="indent2">Accept this most incomparable Ode.</l>
</lg>
<lb/>
<lg type="stanza">
<l rend="indent3">As thou hast propt my steps I prop thy name</l>
<l rend="indent4"> For long shall last this tributary lay,</l>
<l rend="indent3">Nor soon o San Culottes thy fame</l>
<l rend="indent4"> Shall fade in dull Oblivions reign away.</l>
<l rend="indent3">But as thy native holly lifts its head</l>
<l rend="indent4"> In horrent strength erect tho thou art gone</l>
<l rend="indent3">So Sans Culottes shall bloom when I am dead</l>
<l rend="indent4"> The garland evergreen of Southeys song.</l>
</lg>
<p rend="indent7"> ————</p>
<closer>
<signed rend="indent10"> Robert Southey.</signed>
</closer>
<postscript>
<p>how is M<hi rend="sup">rs</hi> Bs gout?</p>
</postscript>
</div>
</body>
</text>
</TEI>
