To Agnes McLehose (Clarinda)
[Ellisland, July 1791?]
I have received both your last letters, Madam, & ought & would have answered the first long ago—But on what subject shall I write you?
How can you expect a Correspondent should write you, when you
declare that you mean to preserve his letters with a view, sooner or later, to expose them on the pillory of derision & the rack of
criticism? This is gagging me compleatly as to speaking the
sentiments of my bosom; else, Madam, [could perhaps too truly
“Join grief with grief & echo sighs to thine!”
I have perused your most beautiful but most pathetic Poem—do not ask me how often, or with what emotions.— You know that, “I dare to sin, but not to lie.”—Your Verses wring the confession from my inmost soul that—I will say it—expose it if you please—that—I have more than once in my life been the victim of a damning conjuncture of circumstances; & that tome you must be ever
“Dear as the light that visits those sad eyes”—
Sweet Sensibility how charming,
I have just, since I had yours, composed the inclosed Stanzas—Let me know your opinion of them—I have one other Piece in your taste, but I have just a snatch of time.—
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