likely--tell Bailey I hope soon to see him--Remember me to all. The leaves have been out here for mony a day--I have written to George for the first stanzas of my Isabel--I shall have them soon, and will copy the whole out for you. Your affectionate Friend JOHN KEATS. LIII.--TO BENJAMIN BAILEY. Hampstead, Thursday [May 28, 1818]. My dear Bailey--I should have answered your Letter on the Moment, if I could have said yes to your invitation. What hinders me is insuperable: I will tell it at a little length. You know my Brother George has been out of employ for some time: it has weighed very much upon him, and driven him to scheme and turn over things in his Mind. The result has been his resolution to emigrate to the back Settlements of America, become Farmer and work with his own hands, after purchasing 14 hundred acres of the American Government. This for many reasons has met with my entire Consent--and the chief one is this; he is of too independent and liberal a Mind to get on in Trade in this Country, in which a generous Man with a scanty resource must be ruined. I would sooner he should till the ground than bow to a customer. There is no choice with him: he could not bring himself to the latter. I would not consent to his going alone;--no--but that objection is done away with: he will marry before he sets sail a young lady he has known for several years, of a nature liberal and high-spirited enough to follow him to the Banks of the Mississippi. He will set off in a month or six weeks, and you will see how I should wish to pass that time with him.--And then I must set out on a journey of my own. Brown and I are going a pedestrian tour through the north of England and Scotland as far as John o' Grot's. I have this morning such a lethargy that I cannot write. The reason of my delaying is oftentimes from this feeling,--I wait for a proper temper. Now you ask for an immediate answer, I do not like to wait even till to-morrow. However, I am now so depressed that I have not an idea to put to paper--my hand feels like lead--and yet it is an unpleasant numbness; it does not take away the pain of Existence. I don't know what to write. Monday [June 1].