purpose of receiving your poetical reveries.

I have heard from our Drury; he says little of the Row, which I
regret: indeed I would have sacrificed much to have contributed in any
way (as a schoolboy) to its consummation; but Butler survives, and
thirteen boys have been expelled in vain. Davies is not here, but
Hobhouse hunts as usual, and your humble servant "drags at each remove
a lengthened chain." I have heard from his Grace of Portland [4] on
the subject of my expedition: he talks of difficulties; by the gods!
if he throws any in my way I will next session ring such a peal in his
ears,

That he shall wish the fiery
Dane Had rather been his guest again. [5]

You do not tell me if Gifford is really my commentator: it is too good
to be true, for I know nothing would gratify my vanity so much as the
reality; even the idea is too precious to part with.

I shall expect you here; let me have no more excuses. Hobhouse desires
his best remembrance. We are now lingering over our evening potations.
I have extended my letter further than I ought, and beg you will
excuse it; on the opposite page I send you some stanzas [6] I wrote
off on being questioned by a former flame as to my motives for
quitting this country. You are the first reader. Hobhouse hates
everything of the kind, therefore I do not show them to him. Adieu!

Believe me, yours very sincerely,

BYRON.