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Lamb, Charles, 1775-1834

"The Best Letters of Charles Lamb"


They still crowd out so: this flock here, that there, belaboring
The loaded flowers. So," etc.
What _endless egression of phrases_ the dog commands!
Take another.--Agamemnon, wounded, bearing hiss wound, heroically for
the sake of the army (look below) to a woman in labor:--
"He with his lance, sword, mighty stones, poured his heroic wreak
On other squadrons of the foe, whiles yet warm blood did break
Thro' his cleft veins: but when the wound was quite exhaust and crude,
The eager anguish did approve his princely fortitude.
As when most sharp and bitter pangs distract a laboring dame,
Which the divine Ilithiae, that rule the painful frame
Of human childbirth, pour on her; the Ilithiae that are
The daughters of Saturnia; with whose extreme repair
The woman in her travail strives to take the worst it gives;
With thought, _it must be, 'tis love's fruit, the end for which
she lives;
The mean to make herself new born, what comforts_ will redound!
So," etc.
I will tell you more about Chapman and his peculiarities in my next. I
am much interested in him.
Yours ever affectionately, and Pi-Pos's,
C. L.

XL.

TO MANNING.
_November_, 1802.
My Dear Manning,--I must positively write, or I shall miss you at
Toulouse. I sit here like a decayed minute-hand (I lie; _that_ does not
_sit_), and being myself the exponent of no time, take no heed how the
clocks about me are going.


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