[So]

, poor dear Rogers has stuck fast on "the brow of the mighty Helvellyn"

[5]

I hope not for ever. My best respects to Lady H.:—her departure, with that of my other friends, was a sad event for me, now reduced to a state of the most cynical solitude.

"By the waters of Cheltenham I sat down and drank, when I remembered thee, oh Georgiana Cottage! As for our harps, we hanged them up upon the willows that grew thereby. Then they said, Sing us a song of Drury Lane," etc.;

—but I am dumb and dreary as the Israelites. The waters have disordered me to my heart's content—you

were

right, as you always are.

Believe me, ever your obliged and affectionate servant,

Byron