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The poems and prose remains of Arthur Hugh Clough

With a selection from his letters and a memoir: Edited by his wife: In two volumes: With a portrait

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III. Mary Trevellyn to Miss Roper,—at Lucca Baths.

You are at Lucca baths, you tell me, to stay for the summer;
Florence was quite too hot; you can't move further at present.
Will you not come, do you think, before the summer is over?
Mr. C. got you out with very considerable trouble;
And he was useful and kind, and seemed so happy to serve you.
Didn't stay with you long, but talked very openly to you;
Made you almost his confessor, without appearing to know it,—
What about?—and you say you didn't need his confessions.
O my dear Miss Roper, I dare not trust what you tell me!

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Will he come, do you think? I am really so sorry for him
They didn't give him my letter at Milan, I feel pretty certain.
You had told him Bellagio. We didn't go to Bellagio;
So he would miss our track, and perhaps never come to Lugano,
Where we were written in full, To Lucerne across the St. Gothard.
But he could write to you;—you would tell him where you were going.