me, I am "sick of fops, and poesy, and prate," and shall leave the "whole Castalian state" to Bufo, or any body else
. But you are a sentimental and sensibilitous person, and will rhyme to the end of the chapter. Howbeit, I have written some 4000 lines, of one kind or another, on my travels.
I need not repeat that I shall be happy to see you. I shall be in town about the 8th, at Dorant's Hotel, in Albemarle Street, and proceed in a few days to Notts., and thence to Rochdale on business.
I am, here and there, yours, etc.
Warton's
Progress of Discontent