I CONTINUE to exist — to see one day succeed the other; to dread night; but more to dread morning & hail another cheerless day. My boy too is alas! no consolation; when I think how He loved him, the plans we had for his education, his sweet & childish voice strikes me to the heart. Why should he live in this world of pain and anguish?
At times I feel an energy within me to combat with my destiny — but again I sink — I have but one hope for which I live — to render myself worthy to join him — such a feeling sustains one during moments of enthusiasm, but darkness & misery soon overwhelms the mind when all near objects bring agony with them. People used to call me lucky in my star. You see now how true such a prophecy is — I was fortunate in having fearlessly placed my destiny in the hands of one, who a superior being among men, a bright planetary spirit enshrined in an earthly temple, raised me to the height of happiness — so far I am now happy that I would not change my situation as His widow with that of the most prosperous woman in the world.
I will say nothing of the ceremony . . . all except his heart (which was unconsumable) was burnt. I went to Leghorn and beheld the small box that contained his earthly dress — that form, those smiles — Great God! No he is not there — he is with me, about me — life of my life & soul of my soul — if his divine spirit did not penetrate mine I could not survive to weep thus.
Lord Byron has been very kind but the Guiccioli restrains him perhaps — she being an Italian is capable of being jealous of a living corpse such as I. Trelawny on that night of agony, that Friday night . . . returned to announce that hope was dead for us — when he had told me that his earthly frame being found, his spirit was no longer to be my guide, protector & companion in this dark world — he did not attempt to console me, that would have been too cruelly useless; but he launched into as it were an overflowing & eloquent praise of my divine Shelley — until I almost was happy that I was thus unhappy to be fed by the praise of him, and to dwell on the eulogy that his loss thus drew.