And I think there is quite enough of Clora and her music. I am hunting about the town for an ancient drinking cup, which I may use when I am in my house, in quality of housekeeper. Have the goodness to make my remembrances to all at that most pleasant house Freestone: I am quite serious in telling you how it is by far the pleasantest family I ever was among. My sister is far better. We walk very much and see such sights as the town affords. To-day I have bought a little terrier to keep me company. You will think this is from my reading of Wordsworth: but if that were my cue, I should go no further than keeping a primrose in a pot for society. Farewell, dear Allen. I am astonished to find myself writing a very long letter once a week to you: but it is next to talking to you: and after having seen you so much this summer, I cannot break off suddenly. I am your most affectionate friend, E. F. G. Have you got this beginning to your MS. of the Dream of Fair Women? It is very splendid. 1. As when a man that sails in a balloon Down looking sees the solid shining ground Stream from beneath him in the broad blue noon,-- Tilth, hamlet, mead and mound: 2. And takes his flags, and waves them to the mob That shout below, all faces turn'd to where Glows rubylike the far-up crimson globe Filled with a finer air: 3. So, lifted high, the Poet at his will Lets the great world flit from him, seeing all, Higher through secret splendours mounting still Self-poised, nor fears to fall, 4. Hearing apart the echoes of his fame-- This is in his best style: no fretful epithet, nor a word too much. [CASTLE IRWELL] MANCHESTER, _February_ 24, 1833. DEAR ALLEN, . . . I am fearful to boast, lest I should lose what I boast of: but I think I have achieved a victory over my evil spirits here: for they have full opportunity to come, and I often observe their approaches, but hitherto I have managed to keep them off. Lord Bacon's Essay on Friendship is wonderful for its truth: and I often feel its truth. He says that with a Friend 'a man _tosseth_ his thoughts,' an admirable saying, which one can understand, but not express otherwise. But I feel that, being alone, one's thoughts and feelings, from want of communication, become heaped up and clotted together, as it were: and so lie like undigested food heavy upon the mind: but with a friend one _tosseth_ them about, so that the air gets between them, and keeps them fresh and sweet. I know not from what metaphor Bacon took his 'tosseth,' but it seems to me as if it was from the way haymakers toss hay, so that it does not press into a heavy lump, but is tossed about in the air, and separated, and thus kept sweet. . . . Your most affectionate friend, E. FITZGERALD. _To W. B. Donne_. {22} GELDESTONE, _Sept_. 27, [1833]. DEAR DONNE,