1099. EBB to Mary Russell Mitford
As published in The Brownings’ Correspondence, 6, 241–243.
[London]
Dec. 27. 1842–
I am in consternation my dearest friend at what you tell me. I received your letter on saturday; & on saturday, by return of post, precisely as you desired, my reply went to you from hence. [1] That you shd complain of the quality of the answer, I expected fully .. for my head was splitting with headache .. seemed to have a bomb in it & to be blowing up … bodily, I shd say if I were not talking of a head … & I could not flatter myself that verses composed under such circumstances could have much common sense in them. However, rather than appear slow & cold & unwilling I wrote some sort of verses, & sent them to you without keeping a copy. Where they have vanished to, I cant guess even. Into some condition of annihilation I must devoutly hope.
In the meantime if you had not reason for suspecting the post office, you wd be reproaching me for unkindness. Indeed, indeed, it is too bad!– As much too bad as my verses were. And have you waited for me? I hope not, I hope not. I hope you used your own verses which appeared to me unexceptionable .. the very things—& which I shd not attempt to replace by verses of mine if I were not afraid of even appearing to disobey a desire of yours, .. acknowledging as I do your absolutism. Well—it is too late to help you—but even so late, I will for form & love’s sake write down, first your own verses with my little suggestions just as they were commanded, & then some verses of my own .. not those I sent before because they are lost, & not any to boast of because I am stupid & feel quite quenched by the very thought of having to write a certain number of rhymes to order––but behold.
“What is the ruddy grape to thee,
And what the stunted vine,
O hopyard garland green & free,
Which frolic hands entwine?
They drink their wine on the shore of Rhine,
And praise dim looks I ween,
To the brown ale bland of our merry England
And our hopyard’s brighteyed queen!”
Perhaps you were better as you were without me– If so, you can put ‘Rhenish strand’ for Arno’s, & send me away.
Well—and here am I.
But remember .. I advise you not to make use of these verses altho’ I write them down. I have only one motive in writing them—my counsel being that you shd use yr own.
Crown her the queen of the hops
By her black eyes’ right divine!
Swear her the queen of the hops,
By the brown ale’s frothy brine.
She will work at the pole, & sing at the crib,
And outlaugh Christendom’s kings, she swears!
So, queen of the hops, oh, let her be crowned,—
With the only crown, on her bonny hairs,
That causeth the wearer to sleep more sound. [2]
My beloved friend, I send you these things today—& it is all I can do– I am not at my best today– You shall hear again tomorrow from me–
Ah, my dearest dearest friend! your hysterics!– I grieve to hear of them– Indeed you must be careful, & avoid over-excitement of all sorts—even the pleasureable– Repose as I always preached like a missionary, is your resource for the present.
I have in my head to publish a little volume of miscellaneous poems. Have you any advice to give me on the subject of publishers? Wd anybody in the world, among poetical booksellers, print a book for me without being paid for it?– Do you think they wd—might—? Or is it not worth my while to make an application?–
I have much to say of your last letter—delightful as befits a letter of yours!–
The hopgarden artist’s letter [3] was returned to you under the missing envelope.
Ever your attached EBB–
Why shd you object to give your name to the engraving? Depend upon it, they want your name, & will be only half satisfied if the verses go apart from it–
Dear Flush! Kiss his pretty head for me–
Publication: EBB-MRM, II, 132–133.
Manuscript: Eton College Library and Wellesley College.
2. EBB’s fair copy, with punctuation changes, is headed “The hop queen.” Line four is amended to read: “By the brown ale’s fruit of the vine,” and “kings” in line six reads “queens” (ms with Meynell).
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