My dear Mr. Murray, <br />You're in a damn 'd hurry, <br />To set up this ultimate Canto; <br />But (if they don't rob us) <br />You'll see Mr. Hobhouse <br />Will bring it safe in his portmanteau. <br /> <br />For the Journal you hint of, <br />As ready to print off, <br />No doubt you do right to commend it; <br />But as yet I have writ off <br />The devil a bit of <br />Our 'Beppo:'--when copied, I'll send it. <br /> <br />Then you've Sotheby's Tour,-- <br />No great things, to be sure,-- <br />You could hardly begin with a less work; <br />For the pompous rascallion, <br />Who don't speak Italian <br />Nor French, must have scribbled by guess work. <br /> <br />You can make any loss up <br />With 'Spence' and his gossip, <br />A work which must surely succeed; <br />Then Queen Mary's Epistle-craft, <br />With the new 'Fytte' of 'Whistlecraft,' <br />Must make people purchase and read. <br /> <br />Then you've General Gordon, <br />Who girded his sword on, <br />To serve with a Muscovite master <br />And help him to polish <br />A nation so owlish, <br />They thought shaving their beards a disaster. <br /> <br />For the man, 'poor and shrewd,' <br />With whom you'd conclude <br />A compact without more delay, <br />Perhaps some such pen is <br />Still extant in Venice; <br />But please, sir, to mention your pay. <br /> <br />Venice, January 8, 1818.<br /><br />George Gordon Byron<br /><br />http://www.poemhunter.com/poem/epistle-to-mr-murray/
