The aim of Transcribe Georgian Papers is to produce useable text documents of the manuscript materials and not critical editions. Please be aware this document may contain errors in the transcription.
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From the Mysterious Mother (Ld Orford's) Florian What awful silence! how these antique Towers And vacant courts, chill the suspended Soul Till expectation wears the cast of fear And fear half ready to become devotion Mumbles a kind of mental orison It knows not wherefore. What a kind of being Is circumstance! I am a Soldier, & were yonder battlements Garnish'd with combatants, & cannon mounted My daring breast would bound with exultation And glorious hope enliven the drear scene, Now dare not I scarce tread to my own hearing Lest Echo borrow superstition's tongue And seem to [[underline]] answer [[/underline]] me like one departed.
