Jewsbury, Maria Jane (1800-1833). - Letter, from an unstated address, to Dora Wordsworth (1804-1847), at Rydal Mount, Ambleside, dated 8 October 1825. WLMS A / Jewsbury, Maria Jane / 3.

A Farewell to the Muse I Not in envy, ire, or grief Bid I now the Muse farewell; 'Tis no childish fancy brief, Lured away by newer spell, - As of earthly good the chief, I have sought her, long and well. II Not in anger;- inward joys, Have been mine, and need of praise; Payment vast for idle toys, Fleeting, unsubstantial lays, - Sandy columns - wind destroys, And that wind again can raise. III No, - not yet in grief we part; Never unto bard like me, Gave the Muse a broken heart; But to noble votaries, - she Doth that awful gift impart, Pledge of Immortality! IV Not in envy; - though [around]

Like the stars a radiant throng, In their several orbits found, I behold the sons of song; - Every brow with laurel bound, And a few as giants strong. V Not in envy; - though I know, Neither wreath nor radiance mine, I will yet pay homage low, Pilgrim-like, at every shrine;_ Seek where buds and blossoms grow, And for others - garlands twine. VI Never hath the Muse bereaved me, Song, hath lightened hours of pain; Never Poet yet deceived me, Truer friend I scarce could gain;- Never, among things that grieved me; Ranked the minstrel lute & strain. VII Yet, I bid the Art adieu, It may be, adieu for ever! I abjure the Syren too; Vain, I own my best endeavour, Weak to grasp - though keen to view, Climbing alway - rising never. VIII Though I smite the rock of song, At my stroke no stream will flow;- At my spell, no spirits strong Bidden come, or mastered go;- Nor the world of passion throng, With its wild waves, to and fro. IX Farewell Muse - vouchsafing never But dim glance, and veiled brow; Farewell Lute - a rude toy ever, Broken, stringless, soon art thou; Farewell Song - thy last notes quiver, Muse - lute - Music - farewell now!

Mind you read these verses according to their numeral order My friends make many objections but I am [firm] I am tired of writing pretty verses. Admire my heroism. I really am going to read Geoffrey Chaucer; as Mr Watts, in return for some little trifles I have done for him, is about to send me a copy of Anderson's Poets - a fourteen guinea work - & my winter work to read! I am truly concerned to hear your report of your friend Sara - pray let me know how she continues. Miss Bailey is a pattern of unobtrusive excellence where known

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Your account of Miss Poole amuses me - by the way Willy has no business to report the idle pun I thoughtlessly told him - not mine either - I only pointed as coming from a gentleman "the standing waters" too it was; not stagnant - The Pooles are a highly respectable family - & I doubt not highly estimable - & I should be grieved for such idle jest to reach their ears, or their friends. My reputation here, is already sufficiently notorious for this kind of satirism to & if I do not turn over a new leaf soon, woe is me! Besides it was only the jest of one gentleman - a wild wag too. I was really vexed to find he had told Mrs. Luff. Tell him with my best love, that if he means to be honoured with the private discourse of ladies, he must be a discreet as well as attentive listener. I hear your Aunt Wordsworth projects a journey into Herefordshire now tell her with my affectionate respects, that I am just positive that her way there lies thro' Manchester - & therefore going or returning I anxiously, respectfully, entreat she will honor & gratify me with a visit. I hope she does not hate our town, as your Aunt Sarah does - Alas, if duty did not keep me here I would take a cottage in the North & become not a Lake Poet, but a lake proser, forthwith. Hitherto my life has been a series of sacrifices - so must it be to the end I do not live for myself - but against myself & for others. If I were a Catholic I should put up prayers to my tutelar saint to bring me nearer you, or you nearer me. I think if I lived ten miles from Rydal - I should never grieve again - but I should soon tire you all; I am sure my late wearifully long letters must have tired you. I am very very nervous, & melancholy just now - when I write again I will be merry for the occasion. My dear don't mention the loss of Mrs: L's portmanteau to Mrs. Barlow - I have no doubt we shall have it back today, or tomorrow, & it is useless letting making her uncomfortable about her watch. I am well.

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My dear Dora You quite misconceived my half letter - no - I am not so unjust, so ungrateful, as to doubt you - not so vulgar - I have full, unshrinking confidence in your affection - its truth, and its continuance - I merely meant to covey to you - one of my peculiarities - that the letters, however kind of a very dear friend excite in me melancholy feeling, merely because they bring the fact of our separation more strongly before me. Credit me - & be at ease. Your letter was all I could wish, more than I could expect - it only carried my heart & memory back to the scenes you mentioned too forcibly & sadly. My birth day is this month - always a day of melancholy to me - I dread growing old, it is a gradual death - if I could age like your Aunt W - & unite green vigour with grey maturity - it were well - but who is like her? Farewell my own dear Dora - if you were here just now - to "witch away" (Q's expression) this black mood - I would pay you largely in love & gratitude. When you have leisure write me - the next best thing to seeing one of whom I wake but to think, & sleep only to dream. Farewell - Excuse errors & deficiencies My next shall be more amusing. This you know is Mrs Luff's letter - not mine Ever yours MJJ.

Blackwood has assured Mr Watts that Wilson has nothing to do with the vile articles on your father. I am glad to hear it. This No. contains an Expostulatory letter on the subject. What has H. Coleridge written. [Learn] & tell me.

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If Willy should get hold of a very fine portentous looking Owl & would send me the skin I should be highly pleased. The Kendal Cookson's will send it to Lancaster by their [Boatwomen] & they to me. I have a passion for stuffed birds. My [Den] is winged -

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Object summary: WLMS A / Jewsbury, Maria Jane / 3