XXJrei MEMOIR. 



".to THE toOOTOE, ON HIS PASSION FOE THE 'DtTCHESS OF" 

 • ' OLDENBHEGH.' " . 



' '^'Dear Dootorj I write yqu this little effusion, 

 On learning you're still in. that f^tal delusion 

 Of thinking the object you love ip a Duchess, 

 When^'tis only a milkmaid you hold in your clutches; 

 Why, 'tis certainly' pla,ih as the.spofe in the sun, 

 That the creature is only a fine Dutch Mignonne. 

 She is J9m«cA— 4here is surely no question Of that,— 

 She's so large and so ruddy — so plump and so fat ; 

 And that she's :a Mignonne — a beauty— mo^t moying, 



, . : Is equally proved by your desperate loving; 

 iSut that she's a Duchess I flatly deny, 

 There^s such a broad twinkle about her deep eye ; 

 And glance iat 'the russety hue of her skin — 

 A lady— a noble— would think it a sin ! 

 Ah nof my dear Doctor, updn my Own honor, 

 I must sdnd you. a dose of the tru^ Bella donna ! " 



I..had;exp^fissedgr^at delight with the magnolia, ^nd 

 carried one of the flowers in my h^nd during our morning 

 -stroU. At evening he handed me a fresh one, and evpry 

 day while I remained, the bfeakfast-yoom was perfumed fey 

 the magnolia that was placed beside my plate. ' This deli- 

 cate thqughtfulness was universal with him. He knew all 

 the flowers that his. friends especially loved ; and in^ his 

 nou^s to me he often wrote, "the magnolias are waiting 

 for you," as an irresistible allurement — ^whidh it was very 

 apt to prove. Downing was in the library when I came 

 down the morrdng after our arriyal. He had the air of a 

 man who has been broad awake and at work for several 

 hours. There was the same quiet greeting as before — a 

 gay conversation, glancing at a thousand things — and 

 .breakfast. .After,, breakfast he disappeared; but if, at 

 any time^ an excursion was proposed,— to climb some hill, 

 to explore some, meadows rich in rhododendron, to visit 



