In remembrance of that part of my journey, which was in 1793, I began the verses, 'Five years have passed,' &c.
22.

_Charles Farish_.
'And hovering, round it often did a raven fly.' From a short MS.

poem read to me when an undergraduate, by my schoolfellow and friend, Charles Farish, long since deceased.

The verses were by a brother of his, a man of promising genius, who died young.
['Guilt and Sorrow,' st.ix.l.

9.] 23.