I heard of Mr. Corbet lately. He, in consequence of your recommendation, is most zealous to serve me. Please favor me soon with an account of your good folks; if Mrs. H. is recovering, and the young gentleman doing well.

No.

No. CVI.

To MR. CUNNINGHAM.

Ellisland, 23rd January, 1791.

MANY happy returns of the season to you, my dear friend! As many of the good things of this life, as is consistent with the usual mixture of good and evil in the cup of Being!

I have just finished a poem, which you will receive inclosed. It is my first essay in the way of tales.

I have these several months been hammering at an elegy on the amiable and accomplished Miss Burnet. I have got, and can get, no farther than the following fragment, on which please give me your strictures. In all kinds of poetic composition, I set great store by your opinion; but in sentimental verses, in the poetry of the heart,

heart, no Roman Catholic ever set more value on the infallibility of the Holy Father than I do on yours.

I mean the introductory couplets as text

verses.

ELEGY

On the late Miss BURNET of MONBODDO.

LIFE ne'er exulted in so rich a prize,
As Burnet lovely from her native skies;
Nor envious death so triumph'd in a blow,
As that which laid th' accomplish'd Burnet low.

Thy form and mind, sweet maid, can I forget?
In richest ore the brightest jewel set!

In thee, high Heaven above, was truest shown,
As by his noblest work the Godhead best is known.

In vain ye flaunt in summer's pride, ye groves;
Thou crystal streamlet with thy flowery shore,
Ye woodland choir that chaunt your idle loves,
Ye cease to charm; Eliza is no more.

Ye heathy wastes immix'd with reedy fens ;

Ye mossy streams, with sedge and rushes stor'd; Ye rugged cliffs o'erhanging dreary glens,

To you I fly, ye with my soul accord.

Princes

Princes, whose cumbrous pride was all their worth,
Shall venal lays their pompous exit hail?
And thou, sweet excellence! forsake our earth,
And not a muse in honest grief bewail?

We saw thee shine in youth and beauty's pride,
And virtue's light that beams beyond the spheres;
But like the sun eclips'd at morning tide,

Thou left'st us darkling in a world of tears.

Let me hear from you soon. Adieu!

No.

No. CVII.

To MR. PETER HILL.

17th January, 1791.

TAKE these two guineas, and place them over against that ****** account of yours! which has gagged my mouth these five or six months! I can as little write good things as apologies to the man I owe money to. O the supreme curse of making three guineas do the business of five! Not all the labours of Hercules; not all the Hebrews' three centuries of Egyptian bondage, were such an insuperable business, such an ******** task!! Poverty! thou half-sister of death, thou cousin-german of hell: were shall I find force of execration equal to the amplitude of thy demerits? Oppressed by thee, the venerable ancient, grown hoary in the practice of every virtue, laden with years and wretchedness, implores a little-little

aid