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<title type="main">The Collected Letters of Robert Southey. Part 2: 1798-1803 </title>
<title type="subordinate">A Romantic Circles Electronic Edition</title>
<author>
<name>Southey, Robert, 1774-1843</name>
</author>
<editor>Lynda Pratt</editor>
<sponsor>Romantic Circles</sponsor>
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<resp>General Editor, </resp>
<name>Neil Fraistat</name>
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<resp>General Editor, </resp>
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<name>Laura Mandell</name>
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<date>2011-08-15</date>
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<idno type="nines">rce358</idno>
<idno type="edition">letterEEd.26.349</idno>
<publisher>Romantic Circles, http://www.rc.umd.edu, University of Maryland</publisher>
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<date when="2011-08-15">August 15, 2011</date>
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<sourceDesc>
<p>Houghton Library, bMS Eng 265.1
                        (24).  Not previously published.</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="349" type="letter">
<head>349. Robert Southey to <ref target="people.html#MayJohn">John May</ref>, <date when="1798-09-26">26 September 1798</date>
<note place="foot" resp="editors" type="headnote">Address: To/ John May Esq<hi rend="sup">r</hi>/ Hale/ near
                        Downton/ Wiltshire/ Single<lb/>Stamped: BRISTOL<lb/>Endorsement: 1798 N<hi rend="sup">o</hi> 24/ Robert Southey/ September 26 no place/ rec<hi rend="sup">d</hi>: 30 do/ ans<hi rend="sup">d</hi>: 2 Nov<hi rend="sup">r</hi>: <lb/>MS: Houghton Library, bMS Eng 265.1
                        (24)<lb/>Unpublished.</note>
</head>
<opener>
<salute>My dear friend</salute>
</opener>
<p rend="indent1"> I send you the following ballad, which is just finished, because
                    it contains the simple relation of a very extraordinary circumstance. A
                    dissenting minister here,<note n="1" place="foot" resp="editors">Possibly
                        William Pine (d. 1803), leading Bristol Methodist and printer of the
                            <title>Bristol Gazette</title>, or his son William Pine
                        (1769–1837).</note> a man of unquestioned veracity, discovered the sailor as
                    you will find related: only last week, &amp; <ref target="people.html#Cottlefamily">Cottles mother</ref> took down the account
                    from his mouth. I have versified it as the best means of circulating a story
                    which ought to be widely known. you will not I think object to the frequent
                    ejaculations when you recollect the effect which the whole is intended to
                    produce.</p>
<lg type="stanza">
<l rend="indent3"> He stopt. – it surely was a groan</l>
<l rend="indent4"> That from the hovel came,</l>
<l rend="indent3"> He stopt &amp; listened anxiously,</l>
<l rend="indent4"> Again it sounds the same.</l>
</lg>
<lb/>
<lg type="stanza">
<l rend="indent3"> It surely from the hovel comes –</l>
<l rend="indent4"> And now he hastens there,</l>
<l rend="indent3"> And thence he hears the name of Christ</l>
<l rend="indent4"> Amidst a broken prayer.</l>
</lg>
<lb/>
<lg type="stanza">
<l rend="indent3"> He enters in the hovel now,</l>
<l rend="indent4"> A sailor there he sees,</l>
<l rend="indent3"> His hands were lifted up to Heaven,</l>
<l rend="indent4"> And he was on his knees.</l>
</lg>
<lb/>
<lg type="stanza">
<l rend="indent3"> Nor did the sailor so intent</l>
<l rend="indent4"> His entering footsteps heed,</l>
<l rend="indent3"> But now the Lords prayer said, &amp; now</l>
<l rend="indent4"> His half-forgotten creed.</l>
</lg>
<lb/>
<lg type="stanza">
<l rend="indent3"> And often on his saviour calld</l>
<l rend="indent4"> With many a bitter groan,</l>
<l rend="indent3"> In such heart-anguish as could spring</l>
<l rend="indent4"> From deepest guilt alone.</l>
</lg>
<lb/>
<lg type="stanza">
<l rend="indent3"> He askd the miserable man</l>
<l rend="indent4"> Why he was kneeling there,</l>
<l rend="indent3"> And what the crime had been that causd</l>
<l rend="indent4"> The anguish of his prayer.</l>
</lg>
<lb/>
<lg type="stanza">
<l rend="indent3"> Oh I have done a wicked thing –</l>
<l rend="indent4"> It haunts me night &amp; day,</l>
<l rend="indent3"> And I have sought this lonely place</l>
<l rend="indent4"> Here undisturbd to pray.</l>
</lg>
<lb/>
<lg type="stanza">
<l rend="indent3"> I have no place to pray on board,</l>
<l rend="indent4"> So I came here alone,</l>
<l rend="indent3"> That I might freely kneel &amp; pray</l>
<l rend="indent4"> And call on Christ &amp; groan.</l>
</lg>
<lb/>
<lg type="stanza">
<l rend="indent3"> If to the main mast head I go</l>
<l rend="indent4"> The Wicked One is there –</l>
<l rend="indent3"> From place to place, from rope to rope,</l>
<l rend="indent4"> He follows every where.</l>
</lg>
<lb/>
<lg type="stanza">
<l rend="indent3"> I shut my eyes, it matters not,</l>
<l rend="indent4"> Still still the same I see, –</l>
<l rend="indent3"> And when I lie me down at night</l>
<l rend="indent4"> Tis always day with me.</l>
</lg>
<lb/>
<lg type="stanza">
<l rend="indent3"> He follows follows every where,</l>
<l rend="indent4"> And every place is hell, –</l>
<l rend="indent3"> O God – &amp; I must go with him</l>
<l rend="indent4"> In endless fire to dwell!</l>
</lg>
<lb/>
<lg type="stanza">
<l rend="indent3"> He follows follows every where –</l>
<l rend="indent4"> He still above, below, –</l>
<l rend="indent3"> Oh tell me where to fly from him</l>
<l rend="indent4"> Oh tell me where to go!</l>
</lg>
<lb/>
<lg type="stanza">
<l rend="indent3"> But tell me, quoth the Stranger then</l>
<l rend="indent4"> What this thy crime hath been,</l>
<l rend="indent3"> So haply I may comfort give</l>
<l rend="indent4"> To one that grieves for sin.</l>
</lg>
<lb/>
<lg type="stanza">
<l rend="indent3"> Oh I have done a cursed deed,</l>
<l rend="indent4"> The wretched man replies –</l>
<l rend="indent3"> And night &amp; day &amp; every where</l>
<l rend="indent4"> Tis still before my eyes.</l>
</lg>
<lb/>
<lg type="stanza">
<l rend="indent3"> I saild on board a Guinea man</l>
<l rend="indent4"> And to the slave coast went –</l>
<l rend="indent3"> Would that the sea had swallowed me</l>
<l rend="indent4"> When I was innocent!</l>
</lg>
<lb/>
<lg type="stanza">
<l rend="indent3"> And we took in our cargo there</l>
<l rend="indent4"> Three hundred negro slaves,</l>
<l rend="indent3"> And we saild homeward merrily</l>
<l rend="indent4"> Over the ocean waves.</l>
</lg>
<lb/>
<lg type="stanza">
<l rend="indent3"> But some were sulky of the slaves</l>
<l rend="indent4"> And would not touch their meat,</l>
<l rend="indent3"> So therefore we were forced by threats</l>
<l rend="indent4"> And blows to make them eat.</l>
</lg>
<lb/>
<lg type="stanza">
<l rend="indent3"> One woman sulkier than the rest</l>
<l rend="indent4"> Would still refuse her food, –</l>
<l rend="indent3"> O Jesus God! I hear her cries,</l>
<l rend="indent4"> I see her in her blood.</l>
</lg>
<lb/>
<lg type="stanza">
<l rend="indent3"> The Captain made me tie her up</l>
<l rend="indent4"> And flog while he stood by,</l>
<l rend="indent3"> And then he cursd me if I staid</l>
<l rend="indent4"> My hand to hear her cry.</l>
</lg>
<lb/>
<lg type="stanza">
<l rend="indent3"> She groand, she shriekd, – I could not spare</l>
<l rend="indent4"> For the Captain he stood by –</l>
<l rend="indent3"> Dear God! that I might rest one night</l>
<l rend="indent4"> From that poor womans cry!</l>
</lg>
<lb/>
<lg type="stanza">
<l rend="indent3"> She twisted from the blows, her blood</l>
<l rend="indent4"> Her mangled flesh I see, –</l>
<l rend="indent3"> And still the Captain would not spare –</l>
<l rend="indent4"> Oh he was worse than me!</l>
</lg>
<lb/>
<lg type="stanza">
<l rend="indent3"> She could not be more glad than I </l>
<l rend="indent4"> When she was taken down, –</l>
<l rend="indent3"> A blessed minute! twas the last</l>
<l rend="indent4"> That I have ever known!</l>
</lg>
<lb/>
<lg type="stanza">
<l rend="indent3"> I did not close my eyes all night</l>
<l rend="indent4"> Thinking what I had done –</l>
<l rend="indent3"> I heard her groans, &amp; they grew faint</l>
<l rend="indent4"> About the rising sun</l>
</lg>
<lb/>
<lg type="stanza">
<l rend="indent3"> She groand &amp; groand, but her groans grew</l>
<l rend="indent4"> Fainter at morning tide,</l>
<l rend="indent3"> Fainter &amp; fainter still they came</l>
<l rend="indent4"> Till at the noon she died.</l>
</lg>
<lb/>
<lg type="stanza">
<l rend="indent3"> They flung her overboard, – poor wretch –</l>
<l rend="indent4"> She rested from her pain, –</l>
<l rend="indent3"> But when O Christ – o blessed God –</l>
<l rend="indent4"> Shall I have rest again.</l>
</lg>
<lb/>
<lg type="stanza">
<l rend="indent3"> I saw the sea close over her</l>
<l rend="indent4"> Yet she was still in sight,</l>
<l rend="indent3"> I see her twisting every where,</l>
<l rend="indent4"> I see her day &amp; night.</l>
</lg>
<lb/>
<lg type="stanza">
<l rend="indent3"> Go where I will, do what I can</l>
<l rend="indent4"> The Wicked One I see –</l>
<l rend="indent3"> Dear Christ have mercy on my soul –</l>
<l rend="indent4"> O Lord deliver me!</l>
</lg>
<lb/>
<lg type="stanza">
<l rend="indent3"> Tomorrow I set sail again,</l>
<l rend="indent4"> Not to the Negro shore,</l>
<l rend="indent3"> Wretch that I am, I will at least</l>
<l rend="indent4"> Commit that sin no more!</l>
</lg>
<lb/>
<lg type="stanza">
<l rend="indent3"> Oh give me comfort if you can,</l>
<l rend="indent4"> Oh tell me where to fly,</l>
<l rend="indent3"> And bid me hope, if there be hope</l>
<l rend="indent4"> For one so lost as I.</l>
</lg>
<lb/>
<lg type="stanza">
<l rend="indent3"> Poor wretch, the stranger he replied,</l>
<l rend="indent4"> Put thou thy trust in Heaven,</l>
<l rend="indent3"> And call on him for whose dear sake</l>
<l rend="indent4"> All sins shall be forgiven.<note n="2" place="foot" resp="editors">He stopt ... forgiven: Verse written in double
                            columns.</note>
</l>
</lg>
<lb/>
<lg type="stanza">
<l rend="indent3"> This night at least is thine, go thou</l>
<l rend="indent4"> And seek the house of prayer.</l>
<l rend="indent3"> There shalt thou hear the word of God,</l>
<l rend="indent4"> And he will help thee there.<note n="3" place="foot" resp="editors">‘The Sailor who had Served in the Slave Trade’,
                                <title>Poems</title>, 2 vols (Bristol, 1799), II, pp.
                            [103]–114.</note>
</l>
</lg>
<p rend="indent5"> _____</p>
<p>I have made some progress in your book of poems,<note n="4" place="foot" resp="editors">Unidentified; possibly a manuscript book of poems and/or
                        other writings Southey was compiling for John May.</note> &amp; expect to
                    bring it with me to London with all those pieces in it that will not be
                    contained in my new volume. this story struck me as so very remarkable that I
                    thought half an hour well employed in sending it to you. the poor fellow went to
                    the Methodist meeting that evening. I do not love Methodism, but in his wretched
                    state of mind he could hardly have gone to a better place. I have
                    conscientiously preserved the story without adding a single circumstance.</p>
<p rend="indent1"> The packet from <ref target="people.html#HillHerbertUncle">my
                        Uncle</ref> consisted wholly of corrections for my letters. many of them
                    merely of such erratas as had not escaped my own notice. there is one curious
                    paper <del rend="strikethrough">of</del> respecting Sebastian.<note n="5" place="foot" resp="editors">Sebastian I (1554–1578; King of Portugal
                        1557–1578). Killed in battle in Morocco, rumours of his survival persisted;
                        see <title>Letters Written During a Short Residence in Spain and
                            Portugal</title>, 2nd edn (Bristol, 1799), pp. 183–184.</note> on the
                    whole I am very glad at having received them, tho some of the circumstances are
                    arrived too late.</p>
<p rend="indent1"> I am going from home tomorrow for a week or ten days. the object
                    of my journey is to see <ref target="people.html#MaberGeorge">Maber</ref>
                    respecting <ref target="people.html#SoutheyEdward">Edward</ref>. it is now more
                    than two years since he mentioned his name to D<hi rend="sup">r</hi>
                        Roberts,<note n="6" place="foot" resp="editors">Revd Dr Richard Roberts (fl.
                        1769–1814), High Master of St Pauls School, 1769–1814.</note> &amp; it is
                    likely to have been forgotten during that interval. he lives about fifty miles
                    from hence, I walk – <ref target="people.html#DanversCharles">a friend</ref>
                    walks with me, we sling our net bags over our shoulders, we shall see a little
                    of South Wales, come home along the banks of the Wye, &amp; not be absent above
                    ten days. for my ale house evenings I have employment enough, &amp; for more
                    idle minutes I take Claudian<note n="7" place="foot" resp="editors">Claudian (d.
                        AD 404?), late Roman poet, whose works included the unfinished epic
                            <title>De Raptu Proserpinae</title> (AD 395–397).</note> with me, an
                    author of whom I know but little, &amp; whom as I should not sit down to read
                    him at home is therefore a good companion on a journey.</p>
<p rend="indent1">
<ref target="people.html#ColeridgeSamuelTaylor">Coleridge</ref> &amp; <ref target="people.html#WordsworthWilliam">Wordsworth</ref> have publishd an
                    anonymous volume of poems under the title of Lyrical Ballads.<note n="8" place="foot" resp="editors">
<title>Lyrical Ballads, With a Few Other
                            Poems</title> (1798).</note> they are of very unequal merit. I do not
                    think there has &lt;been&gt; a single copy of my Letters<note n="9" place="foot" resp="editors">
<title>Letters Written During a Short Residence in Spain and
                            Portugal</title> (1797).</note> left for these last six or ten months.
                    if there be one here I will bring it up for you. my other edition<note n="10" place="foot" resp="editors">
<title>Letters Written During a Short Residence
                            in Spain and Portugal</title> (1799).</note> will be out before Xmas,
                    &amp; you will find it in every respect better.</p>
<p rend="indent1"> I hardly think you could have been more useful in my other line
                    of life than in your present one. this is not exactly the case with me, still
                    however I shall have it in my power to be of some use. a good deal may be done
                    by looking into the abuses of charitable foundations, &amp; I should like very
                    much to frighten trustees, churchwardens &amp; overseers.</p>
<p rend="indent1"> God bless you. I will write to you from some alehouse on my way.
                    should you not like to spend a day with me in wandering among the Black
                    Mountains?</p>
<p rend="indent1">
<ref target="people.html#FrickerEdith">Ediths</ref> love. she is tolerably well, but still not so well as I
                    could wish her. I am afraid of London air &amp; London confinement for her.</p>
<closer>
<salute rend="indent1"> yrs affectionately</salute>
<signed rend="indent2"> Robert Southey</signed>
</closer>
<postscript>
<p>
<date when="1798-09-26">Wednesday. Sept. 26. 98.</date>
</p>
</postscript>
</div>
</body>
</text>
</TEI>
