[[47]]
their deeds] the crimes MS. Letter to Southey.
[[48]]
and] to MS. Letter to Southey.
Between [48-51]
With such let fiends make mockery—
But I—Oh, wherefore this on me?
Frail is my soul, yea, strengthless wholly,
Unequal, restless, melancholy.
But free from Hate and sensual Folly.
MS. Letter to Southey.
[[51]]
be] live MS. Letter to Southey.
After [52] And etc., etc., etc., etc. MS. Letter to Southey.