Leigh Hunt letter to Marianne Kent Hunt, February 10, 1804

              Feby. 10th. 1804. 11 at night. London St. Fitzroy Sq.--  
I sit down to write to you, Marian, with a beating heart; perhaps it is the last time I may thus address you, but if it is, I shall at least have to thank Heaven, that my last words were those of tenderness and affection, and that if we must part, it will be with the farewell of friendship instead of the anger of disappointment or the petulance of mortified vanity.  It is impossible for me to keep silence any longer; my heart is wrapped up in you, and yet I cannot even speak to you, I can neither laugh with you when you are cheerful, nor sympathize with you in your troubles; every body may take an interest in your comfort and your wishes but he, who would be the happiest in rendering you the closest attention and gratifying, where it lies in his power, the slightest of your inclinations.--  Once more, Marian, I ask of you your love, and I assure you that I would not ask it, were I not persuaded that it's bestowal would contribute to your own happiness as well as mine:  I offer you, with the sincerest tenderness, a heart entirely your own, and ready to devote itself to your comfort and happiness as long as it beats; a head, not naturally devoid of sense, whose errors have been, /rec/ I trust, conquered by my affection for you and an unceasing wish