bits of Poems, written off hand at a sitting, most of them: I
only wonder that they do not make a noise in the world. By the by again,
it is quite necessary _your_ poems should be printed; which Moxon, I am
sure, would do gladly. Except this book of Keats, we have had _no_
poetry lately, I believe; luckily, the ---, ---, ---, etc., are getting
older and past the age of conceiving--_wind_. Send your poems over to
Alfred to sort and arrange for you: he will do it: and you and he are the
only men alive whose poems I want to see in print. By the by, thirdly
and lastly, and in total contradiction to the last sentence, I am now
helping to edit some letters and poems of--Bernard Barton! Yes: the poor
fellow died suddenly of heart disease; leaving his daughter, a noble
woman, almost unprovided for: and we are getting up this volume by
subscription. If you were in England _you_ must subscribe: but as you
are not, you need only give us a share in the Great Grimsby Dock instead.

Now there are some more things I could tell you, but you see where my pen
has honestly got to in the paper. I remember you did not desire to hear
about my garden, which is now gorgeous with large red poppies, and lilac
irises--satisfactory colouring: and the trees murmur a continuous soft
_chorus to the solo which my soul discourses within_. If that be not
Poetry, I should like to know what is? and with it I may as well
conclude. I think I shall send this letter to your family at Cheltenham
to be forwarded to you:--they may possibly have later intelligence of you
than I have. Pray write to me if you get this; indeed you _must_; and
never come to England without letting me know of it.

_To George Crabbe_. {247}

TERRACE HOUSE, RICHMOND,
_October_ 22/49.

MY DEAR GEORGE,

Warren's analysis of my MS. is rather wonderful to me. Though not wholly
correct (as I think, and as I will expound to you one day) it seems to me
yet as exact as most of my friends who know me best could draw out from
their personal knowledge. Some of his guesses (though partly right) hit
upon traits of character I should conceive quite out of all possibility
of solution from mere handwriting. I can understand that a man should
guess at one's temperament, whether lively or slow; at one's habit of
thought, whether diffuse or logical; at one's Will, whether strong and
direct or feeble and timid. But whether one distrusts men, and yet
trusts friends? Half of this is true