"My dearest Girl,--This moment I have set myself to copy some verses out fair. I cannot proceed with any degree of content. I must write you a line or two, and see if that will assist in dismissing you from my mind for ever so short a time. Upon my soul I can think of nothing else. The time is past when I had power to advise and warn you against the unpromising morning of my life. My love has made me selfish. I cannot exist without you; I am forgetful of everything but seeing you again; my life seems to stop there--I see no further. You have absorbed me; I have a sensation at the present moment as though I was dissolving. I should be exquisitely miserable without the hope of soon seeing you; I should be afraid to separate myself far from you. My sweet Fanny, will your heart never change? My love, will it? I have no limit now to my love. "Your note came in just here. I cannot be 'happier' away from you; 'tis richer than an argosy of pearls. Do not threat me, even in jest. I have been astonished that men could die martyrs for religion--I have shuddered at it. I shudder no more; I could be martyred for _my_ religion. Love is my religion--I could die for that; I could die for you. My creed is love, and you are its only tenet. You have ravished me away by a power I cannot resist; and yet I could resist till I saw you; and even since I have seen you I have endeavoured often 'to reason against the reasons of my love.' I can do that no more, the pain would be too great. My love is selfish; I cannot breathe without you." (II.) [Date uncertain--say towards June 15, 1820.] "My dearest Fanny,--My head is puzzled this morning, and I scarce know what I shall say, though I am full of a hundred things. 'Tis certain I would rather be writing to you this morning, notwithstanding the alloy of grief in such an occupation, than enjoy any other pleasure, with health to boot, unconnected with you. Upon my soul I have loved you to the extreme. I wish you could know the tenderness with which I continually brood over your different aspects of countenance, action, and dress. I see you come down in the morning; I see you meet me at the window; I see everything over again eternally that I ever have seen. If I get on the pleasant clue, I live in a sort of happy misery; if on the unpleasant, 'tis miserable misery.