Dear Sir,—With thanks for your last No. of the Cabinet—as I cannot arrange with a London publisher to reprint “Rosamund Gray” as a book, it will be at your service to admit into the Cabinet as soon as you please.
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Emma, eldest of
your name,
Meekly trusting in her God
Midst the red-hot plough-shares trod,
And unscorch’d preserved her fame.
By that test if you were tried,
Ugly flames might be defied;
Though devouring fire’s a glutton,
Through the trial you might go
“On the light fantastic toe,”
Nor for plough-shares care a Button.
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