No flesh nor fish can I swallow:
porridge
and milk are
the only things I can taste.
the only things I can taste.
Robert Forst
]
For Heaven's sake, and as you value the we[l]fare of your daughter and
my wife, do, my dearest Sir, write to Fife, to Mrs. Armour to come if
possible. My wife thinks she can yet reckon upon a fortnight. The
medical people order me, _as I value my existence_, to fly to
sea-bathing and country-quarters, so it is ten thousand chances to one
that I shall not be within a dozen miles of her when her hour comes.
What a situation for her, poor girl, without a single friend by her on
such a serious moment.
I have now been a week at salt-water, and though I think I have got
some good by it, yet I have some secret fears that this business will
be dangerous if not fatal.
Your most affectionate son,
R. B.
* * * * *
CCCXL.
TO MRS. BURNS.
[Sea-bathing, I have heard skilful men say, was injudicious: but it
was felt that Burns was on his way to the grave, and as he desired to
try the influence of sea-water, as well as sea-air, his wishes were
not opposed. ]
_Brow, Thursday. _
MY DEAREST LOVE,
I delayed writing until I could tell you what effect sea-bathing was
likely to produce. It would be injustice to deny that it has eased my
pains, and I think has strengthened me; but my appetite is still
extremely bad.
No flesh nor fish can I swallow: porridge and milk are
the only things I can taste. I am very happy to hear, by Miss Jess
Lewars, that you are all well. My very best and kindest compliments to
her, and to all the children. I will see you on Sunday.
Your affectionate husband,
R. B.
* * * * *
CCCXLI.
TO MRS. DUNLOP.
["The poet had the pleasure of receiving a satisfactory explanation of
this lady's silence," says Currie, "and an assurance of the
continuance of her friendship to his widow and children. "]
_Brow, Saturday, 12th July, 1796. _
MADAM,
I have written you so often, without receiving any answer, that I
would not trouble you again, but for the circumstances in which I am.
An illness which has long hung about me, in all probability will
speedily send me beyond that _bourn whence no traveller returns. _ Your
friendship, with which for many years you honoured me, was a
friendship dearest to my soul. Your conversation, and especially your
correspondence, were at once highly entertaining and instructive. With
what pleasure did I use to break up the seal!
For Heaven's sake, and as you value the we[l]fare of your daughter and
my wife, do, my dearest Sir, write to Fife, to Mrs. Armour to come if
possible. My wife thinks she can yet reckon upon a fortnight. The
medical people order me, _as I value my existence_, to fly to
sea-bathing and country-quarters, so it is ten thousand chances to one
that I shall not be within a dozen miles of her when her hour comes.
What a situation for her, poor girl, without a single friend by her on
such a serious moment.
I have now been a week at salt-water, and though I think I have got
some good by it, yet I have some secret fears that this business will
be dangerous if not fatal.
Your most affectionate son,
R. B.
* * * * *
CCCXL.
TO MRS. BURNS.
[Sea-bathing, I have heard skilful men say, was injudicious: but it
was felt that Burns was on his way to the grave, and as he desired to
try the influence of sea-water, as well as sea-air, his wishes were
not opposed. ]
_Brow, Thursday. _
MY DEAREST LOVE,
I delayed writing until I could tell you what effect sea-bathing was
likely to produce. It would be injustice to deny that it has eased my
pains, and I think has strengthened me; but my appetite is still
extremely bad.
No flesh nor fish can I swallow: porridge and milk are
the only things I can taste. I am very happy to hear, by Miss Jess
Lewars, that you are all well. My very best and kindest compliments to
her, and to all the children. I will see you on Sunday.
Your affectionate husband,
R. B.
* * * * *
CCCXLI.
TO MRS. DUNLOP.
["The poet had the pleasure of receiving a satisfactory explanation of
this lady's silence," says Currie, "and an assurance of the
continuance of her friendship to his widow and children. "]
_Brow, Saturday, 12th July, 1796. _
MADAM,
I have written you so often, without receiving any answer, that I
would not trouble you again, but for the circumstances in which I am.
An illness which has long hung about me, in all probability will
speedily send me beyond that _bourn whence no traveller returns. _ Your
friendship, with which for many years you honoured me, was a
friendship dearest to my soul. Your conversation, and especially your
correspondence, were at once highly entertaining and instructive. With
what pleasure did I use to break up the seal!
