2458. Robert Southey to Thomas Southey, 10–14 July 1814 ⁠* 

Sunday evening. 10 July 1814.

My dear Tom

In writing a poem a man may be as much out in his estimates as in building a house. I have written like a lion, if you know how lions write, ever since you left us. [1]  On the 3^d of June the 20^th section was finished, & that same evening the first memoranda for the Odes [2]  were made in the manner which you may remember – those odes with the interruptions of Miss Hutchinson & the Frenchman, [3]  detained me from the greater work till the 15^th on which day I began the 21^st book, – & I am now advanced as far as the 331^st line of the 25^th – It seems scarcely possible that there can be more than a hundred more requird to compleat it, & I go to bed in full hope that when I shall lie down tomorrow, it will be finished, & then O be joyful [4]  St Helens Auckland & Greta Hall – being I believe all the lands upon which I am entitled to call on this occasion. The whole extent of the poem will be somewhat more than 6800 lines, – I did not think it would have exceeded 5000. Many parts of these conclude latter books are as good as anything I can ever hope to produce. Orelio even disputes the preference with Nobs in my affections. [5] 

I am still too full of what remains to be done to know how I shall feel when my mind has laid down its burthen. But xxxx my shoulders have been so long used to it that I shall probably soon feel the xxxx want of another to keep them warm. My next undertaking in verse however will be upon a xx much smaller scale “A Tale of Paraguay”, [6]  – which will hardly exceed 1000 lines the circumstances which are true, are very few, very simple, but exceedingly curious & impressive. There is little or no passion in it. The character of the poem will be descriptive & thoughtful & the feeling melancholy but in no degree painful. – The story has lain among my preexistences for seven years. It will most probably be written in rhyme, for I am perfectly aware of the danger of repeating myself, & contracting a mannerism in pursuing one key too long.

Thursday 14 July.

Monday came & I continued at my task, still writing like a Lion, – it was like going up a mountain, the termination seemed to recede as I advanced. So I was still at it on Tuesday middleday, when in came a Laker to interrupt me. I was very glad to see him – first because my head was too full of the subject & yet nothing but such an interruption could have called me off when the end was so near, – & secondly because he was a person <to> whom I was very glad to have an opportunity of showing some civility: – a Mr Gooden who collected books & manuscripts in Brazil, for the purpose of lending them to me. He came from Penrith for the xx xx purposely to see me, & I made him stay over the next day, showing him all my treasures, which none but those who know something about Portugal & its history & literature can properly estimate. This morning I went again to work, & just at dinner time finished a poem which was begun 2 December 1809. The last book has extended to 580 lines, & the whole work to 7000, xxx some twenty more or less. – Hourra! your Serene Highness! – O be joyful S^t Helens Auckland & Greta Hall.

Having some 700 lines to transcribe my head is not compleatly discharged of the subject, so that it will pass off gradually. Other [MS torn] it would leave something like a strange sort of feeling for during the last six months it has been the chief object of my thoughts. I do not feel exactly as Gibbon [7]  did, who knew that it was impossible for him ever to execute xxxx <another> work of equal magnitude with his great history; – but I for I neither want subjects nor inclination for fresh attempts. But this poem has been 4 ½ years in hand, & had been thought of as many years before it was begun: & it is impossible not to feel how very doubtful it is whether I may ever again compleat a poem <one> of equal extent, – or xx xx of equal merit, – tho never at any part of my life better disposed for it in will or in power than at the present time.

Love to Sarah – & God bless you

RS.

The parcel is not arrivd, but may perhaps make its appearance to night