Friday, November 5, 2010

I saw her, but in her coffin

6 Nov 1762: In the way to London I read "The Death of Abel." That manner of writing, in prose run mad, I cordially dislike: Yet, with all that disadvantage, it is excellent in its kind; as much above most modern poems, as it is below "Paradise Lost."
I had hopes of seeing a friend at Lewisham in my way; and so I did; but it was in her coffin. It is well, since she finished her course with joy. In due time I shall see her in glory.

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