reat Greek lion's mane than Pope's did.

Will you give my love to dear Miss Bayley? She shall hear from me--and
_you_ shall, in a day or two. And do not mind Mr. Kenyon. He 'roars as
softly as a sucking dove;' nevertheless he is an intolerant monster,
as I half told him the other day.

Believe me, dear Miss Thomson,
Affectionately yours,
E.B.B.

_To Mr. Westwood_
50 Wimpole Street: May 22, 1845.

Did you persevere with 'Sordello'? I hope so. Be sure that we may all
learn (as poets) much and deeply from it, for the writer speaks true
oracles. When you have read it through, then read for relaxation
and recompense the last 'Bell and Pomegranate' by the same poet, his
'Colombo's Birthday,' which is exquisite. Only 'Pippa Passes' I lean
to, or kneel to, with the deepest reverence. Wordsworth has been in
town, and is gone. Tennyson is still here. He likes London, I hear,
and hates Cheltenham, where he resides with his family, and he smokes
pipe after pipe, and does not mean to write any more poems. Are we to
sing a requiem?

Believe me, faithfully yours,
ELIZABETH BARRETT BARRETT.

_To H.S. Boyd_
Saturday, July 21, 1845 [postmark].

My very dear Friend,--You are kind to exceeding kindness, and I am as
grateful as any of your long-ago kind invitations ever found me. It is
something pleasant, indeed, and like a return to life, to be asked by
you to spend two or three days in your house, and I thank you for this
pleasantness, and for the goodness, on your own part, which induced
it. You may be perfectly sure that no Claypon, though he should live
in Arcadia, would be preferred by me to _you_ as a host, and I wonder
how you could entertain the imagination of such a thing. Mr. Kenyon,
indeed, has asked me repeatedly to spend a few hours on a sofa in his
house, and, the Regent's Park being so much nearer than you are, I
had promised to think of it. But I have not yet found it possible to
accomplish even that quarter of a mile's preferment, and my ambition
is forced to be patient when I begin to think of St. John's Wood. I am
considerably stronger, and increasing in strength, and in time, with
a further advance of the summer, I may do 'such things--what they are
yet, I know not.' Yes, I _know_ that they relate to _you_, and that I
have a hope, as well as an earnest, affectionate desire, to sit face
to face with you once more before this summer closes. Do, in the
meantime, believe that I am very grateful to you for yo