"]
* * * * *
363.--To John Murray.
Tuesday evening, Nov. 30, 1813.
Dear Sir,--For the sake of correctness, particularly in an Errata page,
the alteration of the couplet I have just sent (half an hour ago) must
take place, in spite of delay or cancel; let me see the _proof_ early
to-morrow. I found out _murmur_ to be a neuter _verb_, and have been
obliged to alter the line so as to make it a substantive, thus:
The deepest murmur of this life shall be
No sigh for Safety, but a prayer for thee!
Don't send the copies to the _country_ till this is all right.
Yours,
B.
* * * * *
364.--To Thomas Moore.
November 30, 1813.
Since I last wrote to you, much has occurred, good, bad, and
indifferent,--not to make me forget you, but to prevent me from
reminding you of one who, nevertheless, has often thought of you, and to
whom _your_ thoughts, in many a measure, have frequently been a
consolation. We were once very near neighbours this autumn; and a good
and bad neighbourhood it has proved to me. Suffice it to say, that your
French quotation [1] was confoundedly to the purpose,--though very
_unexpectedly_ pertinent, as you may imagine by what I _said_ before,
and my silence since. However, "Richard's himself again," [2] and except
all night and some part of the morning, I don't think very much about
the matter.
All convulsions end with me in rhyme; and to solace my midnights, I have
scribbled another Turkish story [3]--not a Fragment--which you will
receive soon after this.
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