'I am melancholy with reading the 3rd Canto of Childe Harold. Do you not remember, Shelley when you first read it to me? One evening after returning from Diodati. It was in our little room at Chapuis - the lake was before us and the mighty Jura. That time is past and this will also pass when I may weep to read this words and again moralize on the flight of time. Dear Lake! I shall ever love thee. How a powerful mind can sanctify past scenes and recollections - His is a powerful mind. one that fills me with melancholy yet mixed with pleasure as is always the case when intellectual energy is displayed. I think of our excursions on the lake. how we saw him when he came down to us or welcomed our arrival with a goodhumoured smile - How very vividly does each verse of his poem recall some scene of this kind to my memory - This time will soon also be a recollection - We may see him again & again - enjoy his society but the time will also arrive when that which is now an anticipation will be only in the memory - death will at length come and in the last moment all will be a dream. Am I not very melancholy? Godwin is out and I shall finish the canto although I fear it will not raise my spirits.'