I am, Sir, yours truly,
C. LAMB.
Oct. 5th.
[Rogers had sent Lamb a copy of his Italy, with illustrations by Turner and Stothard, which was published by Moxon with other firms in 183O. This is the middle paragraph on page 34:—
Here
I received from thee, Basilico,
One
of those courtesies so sweet, so rare!
When,
as I rambled thro’ thy vineyard-ground
On
the hill-side, thou sent’st thy little son,
Charged
with a bunch almost as big as he,
To
press it on the stranger. May thy vats
O’erflow,
and he, thy willing gift-bearer,
Live
to become a giver; and, at length,
When
thou art full of honour and wouldst rest,
The
staff of thine old age!]
LETTER 524
CHARLES LAMB TO VINCENT NOVELLO
[P.M. November 8, 1830.]
Tears
are for lighter griefs. Man weeps the doom
That
seals a single victim to the tomb.
But
when Death riots, when with whelming sway
Destruction
sweeps a family away;
When
Infancy and Youth, a huddled mass,
All
in an instant to oblivion pass,
And
Parent’s hopes are crush’d; what lamentation
Can
reach the depth of such a desolation?
Look
upward, Feeble Ones! look up, and trust
That
He, who lays this mortal frame in dust,
Still
hath the immortal Spirit in His keeping.
In
Jesus’ sight they are not dead, but sleeping.
Dear N., will these lines do? I despair of better. Poor Mary is in a deplorable state here at Enfield.
Love to all,
C. LAMB.
[The four sons and two daughters of John and Ann Rigg, of York, had been drowned in the Ouse. A number of poets were asked for verses, the best to be inscribed on a monument in York Minster. Those of James Montgomery were chosen.
It was possibly the death of Hazlitt, on September 18, while the Lambs were in their London lodgings, that brought on Mary Lamb’s attack.]
LETTER 525
CHARLES LAMB TO EDWARD MOXON
November 12, 1830.
Dear Moxon,—I have brought my sister to Enfield, being sure that she had no hope of recovery in London. Her state of mind is deplorable beyond any example. I almost fear whether she has strength at her time of life ever to get out of it. Here she must be nursed, and neither see nor hear of anything in the world out of her sick chamber. The mere hearing that Southey had called at our lodgings totally upset her. Pray see him, or hear of him at Mr. Rickman’s, and excuse my not writing to him. I dare not write or receive a letter in her presence; every little task so agitates her. Westwood will receive any letter for me, and give it me privately. Pray assure Southey of my kindliest feelings towards him; and, if you do not see him, send this to him.