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Hampstead Jan, 31, 1816.
My dear Haydon,
I plainly see that you are a nervous man at last as well as myself; but neither you nor your genius will be the worse for that, as long as you turn it to this kindly purpose, /&/ those affectionate /.../ regrets. Believe me I have had them also, & to no small extent; but I have learnt, after infinite battling, to hope, & to resolve to expect, the best in every thing; & you may be assured we shall /have/ again have our old sympathetic enjoyments, of which you have made out so pleasant a list. I seemed, at the minute, to be again walking with you towards Hampstead over the fields, now quoting, now speculating, now giggling, now humming & whistling, now darting up, like larks, into all the skies of fancy & fine abstraction. Come, & let us renew our luxuries in Hampstead. I can procure a very comfortable bed for you at all events at a neighbour's; & so without saying more, shall expect you & the first flowers together.
And now what shall I say of Wordsworth's two sonnets,[1]-- not excepting the one addressed to you?[2] My disinclination in fact to
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