Nobody that has not published can tell the almost painful excitement the expectation of first opinions occasions. Really for some days I was quite nervous. William boasted of possessing his mind in wise passivity, and truly his imperturbable patience was quite an annoyance; I therefore got Rogers's beautiful poem Italy to read, and so diverted my thoughts. William had, a few days ago, a letter from Wordsworth. It was merely to say that, the evening before, he had returned from a journey, when he found the volume [Desolation of Eyam], which he is pleased to call "elegant," and that he immediately wrote, though he had time only to turn over the pages, in doing which "he was glad to find several poems which had afforded him no small gratification before then."