took a tinge? The very time, which I had chosen for my story, that which immediately followed the Restoration, seemed to require, in an English play, that the English should be of rather an older cast, than that of the precise year in which it happened to be written. I wish it had not some faults, which I can less vindicate than the language. I remain, My dear Coleridge, Your's, With unabated esteem, C. LAMB. WHEN maidens such as Hester die, A month or more hath she been dead, To think upon the wormy bed, A springy motion in her gait, Of pride and joy no common rate, |