ever I really believe that he will take fire at the sight of your Picture--and set about things. If he can get ready in time to return to Town with me which will be in a few days--I will bring 〈him〉 to you. You will be glad to hear that within these last three weeks I have written 1000 lines --which are the third Book of my Poem. My Ideas with respect to it I assure you are very low--and I would write the subject thoroughly again--but I am tired of it and think the time would be better spent in writing a new Romance which I have in my eye for next Summer--Rome was not built in a Day--and all the good I expect from my employment this summer is the fruit of Experience which I hope to gather in my next Poem.1 Bailey's kindest wishes and my vow of being
Address: Mr. B. Bailey ∣ Magdalen Hall. ∣ Oxford.
Postmark: 8 OCT 1817.
Hamps〈t〉ead Octr Wednesday.
My dear Bailey,
After a tolerable journey, I went from Coach to Coach to as far as Hampstead where I found my Brothers--the next Morning finding myself tolerably well I went to Lambs Conduit Street and delivered your Parcel--Jane and Marianne were greatly improved Marianne especially she has no unhealthy plumpness in the face--but she comes me healthy and angular to the Chin--I did not see John-- I was extrem〈e〉ly sorry to hear that poor Rice, after having had capital Health during his tour, was very ill. I dare say you have heard from him. From No 19 I went to Hunt's and Haydon's who live now neighbours. Shelley was there. I know nothing about anything in this part of the world--every Body seems at Loggerheads. There's Hunt infatuated--there's Haydon's Picture in statu quo. There's Hunt walks up and down his painting room criticising every head most unmercifully. There's Horace Smith tired of Hunt.2 The web of our Life is of mingled____________________