Poem by Charles Lamb

Lines Addressed to Lieut. R.W.H. Hardy, R.N.

'Tis pleasant, lolling in our elbow-chair,
Secure at home, to read descriptions rare
Of venturous traveller in savage climes;
His hair-breadth 'scapes, toil, hunger—and sometimes
The merrier passages that, like a foil
To set off perils past, sweetened that toil,
And took the edge from danger; and I look
With such fear-mingled pleasure through thy book,
Adventurous Hardy! Thou a diver art,
But of no common form; and, for thy part
Of the adventure, hast brought home to the nation
Pearls of discovery—jewels of observation. 

1. David
2. Lines Addressed from London, to Sara and S.T.C. at Bristol, in the Summer of 1796
3. Cleanliness
4. Nursing
5. Love, Death, and Reputation

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