]? [Greek ttext]. I
think one sees that the Oriental borrowed this Fancy, which smacks of the
Grecian Personification of Mother Night. What an Epitaph for a Warrior
are those two Greek words by which the Chorus express all that returns to
Mycenae of the living Hero who went forth [435]--[Greek text]!

Well; and I have had a Note from Garcin de Tassy whom I had asked if he
knew of any Copy of Omar Khayyam in all the Paris Libraries: he writes 'I
have made, by means of a Friend, etc.' But I shall enclose his Note to
amuse you. Now what I mean to do is, in return for his politeness to me,
to copy out as well as I can the Tetrastichs as you copied them for me,
and send them as a Present to De Tassy. Perhaps he will edit them. I
should not wish him to do so if there were any chance of your ever doing
it; but I don't think you will help on the old Pantheist, and De Tassy
really, after what he is doing for the Mantic, deserves to make the
acquaintance of this remarkable little Fellow. Indeed I think you will
be pleased that I should do this. Now for some more AEschylus. Friday,
April 17. I have been for the last five days with my Brother at
Twickenham; during which time I really copied out Omar Khayyam, in a way!
and shall to-day post it as a '_cadeau'_ to Garcin de Tassy in return for
his Courtesy to me. I am afraid, a bad return: for my MS. is but badly
written and it would perhaps more plague than profit an English 'savant'
to have such a present made him. But a Frenchman gets over all this very
lightly. Garcin de Tassy tells me he has printed four thousand lines of
the Mantic. And here is April running away and it will soon be time to
post you another Letter! When I once get into the Country I shall have
less to write you about than now; and that, you see, is not much.

Tuesday, April 21. Yours and your wife's dear good Letters put into my
hand as I sit in the sunshine in a little Balcony outside the Windows
looking upon the quite green hedge side of the Regent's Park. For Green
it is thus early, and such weather as I never remember before at this
Season. Well, your Letters, I say, were put into my hand as I was there
looking into AEschylus under an Umbrella, and waiting for Breakfast. My
wife cried a good deal over your wife's Letter, I think, I think so. Ah
me! I would not as yet read it, for I was already sad; but I shall
answer hers to me which I did read indeed with many thoughts: perhaps I
can wr