Monday, 26 August 1861

Lovely day all through. La Petraja. 2

Physic ― & unwell.

Worked pretty hard off & on ― but XX & horribly out of spirits ― & miserable.

Dined at 4 on a sole & beer & potatoes.

Worked again ― & walked a little.

After all what good are the trees & beautiful woods of England to me? I got no sight of them. ― Nor is it well that I should care much now for anything more. ―

I think, at the outside, I shall finish 4 or 5 of these paintings only ― & then leave St. Leonard’s. ―

“We come no more to the golden shores ((Shakespeare, The Merry Wives of Windsor. I.iv. Falstaff to Robin: “Hold, sirrah, bear you these letters tightly; | Sail like my pinnace to the golden shores.”))
“Which we loved in days of old.” ((Owen Meredith (Robert, Lord Lytton). Clytemnestra. II: “Troy being captive, we shall see once more | Those whom we loved in days of old.” Bulwel-Lytton, Robert. The Poetical Works of Owen Meredith. Boston: James R. Osgood and Company, 1875. 302.)) ―

O weary life.

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

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Filed under 1861, Diary Entry

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