Arabel and I intend to pay you a visit on Monday, and if we can, and it is convenient to you, we are inclined to invite ourselves to your dinner table. But this is all dependent on the weather. Believe me, dear Mr. Boyd, your affectionate friend, E.B. BARRETT. [Footnote 24: An allusion to the first line of 'The Poet's Vow.'] [Footnote 25: The 'Seraphim,' published in 1838.] _To H.S. Boyd_ [74 Gloucester Place:] November 26, 1836 [postmark]. My dear Mr. Boyd,--I have been so busy that I have not been able until this morning to take breath or _inspiration_ to answer your lyrics. You shall see me soon, but I am sorry to say it can't be Monday or Tuesday. I have had another note from the editor of the 'New Monthly Magazine'--very flattering, and praying for farther supplies. The Angels were not ready, and I was obliged to send something else, which I will not ask you to read. So don't be very uneasy. Arabel's and my best love to Annie. And believe me in a great hurry, for I won't miss this post, Yours affectionately, E.B. BARRETT. Your lyrics found me dull as prose Among a file of papers And analysing London fogs To nothing but the vapours. They knew their part; but through the fog Their flaming lightning raising; They missed my fancy, and instead, My choler set a-blazing. Quoth I, 'I need not care a pin For charge unjust, unsparing; Yet oh! for ancient bodkin[26] keen, To punish this _Pindáring_. 'Yet oh! that I, a female Jove, These fogs sublime might float on, Where, eagle-like, my dove might show A very [Greek: _ugron nôton_].[27] 'Then lightning should for lightning flash, Vexation for vexation, And shades of St. John's Wood should glow In awful conflagration.' I spoke; when lo! my birds of peace, The vengeance disallowing, Replied, 'Coo, coo!' But _keep in mind_, That _cooing_ is not _cowing_.[28] [Footnote 26: The bodkin seems to be a favourite weapon with ancient dames whose genius was for killing (note by E.B.B.).] [Footnote 27: A reference to Pindar, _Pyth_.i. 9.] [Footnote 28: These verses are inclosed with the foregoing letter, as a retort to Mr. Boyd's parody.] _To Mrs. Martin_ 74 Gloucester Place: December 7, 1836. My dearest Mrs. Martin,--Indeed I have long felt the need of writing to you (I mean the need to myself), and although so many weeks and even months have passed away in silence, they have not done so in lack of affection and thought.