The same lovely weather. ― Packed & paid ― a 2nd letter coming from ET to say Alfred is not going up. Some ladies going to Freshwater offer to take me & luggage from Blackgang, ― So I walk by the beach cliff, which is all slipping into the sea, & up Blackgang chine to the Hotel ― whence, at 11½, I set off with the 2 ladies, who were amicable, & the driver, a sailor who had 3 medals, but having broken ˇ[one of] his ribs by a fall, could not go to sea again. ― At Brixton1 we stopped a while ― & then on by Mottistone, Ulverston2 & Brook ― & over the down, from which the view of the needle cliff is glorious. The lady I left at Freshwater, ― her name is Blaksley. ― At Farringford by 4. A.T. seems well. E.T. looks very pale & worn & sad. ― They expect a publisher, so I move in the attic. Dinner ― & after that talk with E.T., & singing.

Carriage wheel at 10. I read Guinevere ― which is the most astonishingly lovely of all the poems AT has written.

[Transcribed by Marco Graziosi from Houghton Library, Harvard University, MS Eng. 797.3.]

  1. Now Brightstone. []
  2. Probably Hulvertone. []