1837.
I remain, dear Sir George, Your most affectionate friend, W.WORDSWORTH.
The following, to his friend Southey, was written the morrow after the arrival of the sad tidings: Tuesday Evening, Grasmere, 1805.
We see nothing here that does not remind us of our dear brother; there is nothing about us (save the children, whom he had not seen) that he has not known and loved.
If you could bear to come to this house of mourning to-morrow, I should be for ever thankful.

We weep much to-day, and that relieves us.

As to fortitude, I hope I shall show that, and that all of us will show it in a proper time, in keeping down many a silent pang hereafter.

But grief will, as you say, and must, have its course; there is no wisdom in attempting to check it under the circumstances which we are all of us in here.
I condole with you, from my soul, on the melancholy account of your own brother's situation; God grant you may not hear such tidings! Oh! it makes the heart groan, that, with such a beautiful world as this to live in, and such a soul as that of man's is by nature and gift of God, that we should go about on such errands as we do, destroying and laying waste; and ninety-nine of us in a hundred never easy in any road that travels towards peace and quietness.

And yet, what virtue and what goodness, what heroism and courage, what triumphs of disinterested love everywhere, and human life, after all, what is it! Surely, this is not to be for ever, even on this perishable planet! Come to us to-morrow, if you can; your conversation, I know, will do me good.
* * * * * All send best remembrances to you all.
Your affectionate friend, W.WORDSWORTH.
The following, to another friend, completes the sad tale: Grasmere, March 16.