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Moore, Thomas, 1779-1852

"With his Letters and Journals."

This last intention you will keep a
secret, as my nice _mamma_ would imagine I was on a Voyage of
Discovery, and raise the accustomed _maternal warwhoop_.
"Last week I swam in the Thames from Lambeth through the two bridges,
Westminster and Blackfriars, a distance, including the different turns
and tacks made on the way, of three miles! You see I am in excellent
training in case of a _squall_ at sea. I mean to collect all the Erse
traditions, poems, &c. &c., and translate, or expand the subject to
fill a volume, which may appear next spring under the denomination of
_'The Highland Harp_,' or some title equally _picturesque_. Of
Bosworth Field, one book is finished, another just began. It will be a
work of three or four years, and most probably never conclude. What
would you say to some stanzas on Mount Hecla? they would be written at
least with _fire_. How is the immortal Bran? and the Phoenix of canine
quadrupeds, Boatswain? I have lately purchased a thorough-bred
bull-dog, worthy to be the coadjutor of the aforesaid celestials--his
name is _Smut_!--'Bear it, ye breezes, on your _balmy_ wings.'
"Write to me before I set off, I conjure you, by the fifth rib of your
grandfather. Ridge goes on well with the books--I thought that worthy
had not done much in the country. In town they have been very
successful; Carpenter (Moore's publisher) told me a few days ago they
sold all theirs immediately, and had several enquiries made since,
which, from the books being gone, they could not supply.


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