The entry is smudged in places, the hand looks hurried and frenetic

[Journal Entry - 1 July 1773]

I have not slept at all. Not once did my eyes close since Ladies Merry and Gabrielle departed. I have danced alone on the lawn, and picked blooms in the middle of the night. O, how I wish the delight of this night could continue, but I know there is work ahead...

I had availed myself of Lady Merry's talent with the tarot deck during the weekend's events; but foolishly, I left the matter of my future open to the deck, and much to my dismay it answered in riddles and obscurely. And so I had requested that perhaps whence a clearer query came to mind, I might again impose.

And so, this night, it was done.

I clearly explained that I was upon a road, quite stable, and quite straight. But that before me lay two paths; one, which if sought, might give me great pleasure, but those around me some measure of sorrow, and another, that, if taken, would leave me bereft of happiness, but make others quite satisfied. I advised Lady M. that I wished to know if the path that I, in my heart, wished to choose, was the one unto which cards might give their celestial blessings.

I dare not write my true feelings on this, as until my foot lands over the threshold and my future is assured, I mustn't breathe a word, but still, the message is one that deserves telling, and so I shall in as enigmatic a fashion as I am able....

The writing style improves - flourishes adorn the carefully penned poem...

Upon the grate, the wheel reversed
No choice advised, no choice is cursed;
The kindling there the Eight of Wands
Reversed, creativity in bonds
Upon my mantel, there does hover
None other card than of The Lovers
The hearth rug is reversed Wands Four
And as it stands, I rest no more

Calamity, departure takes
The Tower out the back doth snake
And in the front, O, woeful Death
But where one dies, another's breath
Then Pentacles of Eight does show
Where, with my efforts, skill shall grow
Queen of Pentacles: Kin and friend
The next card will they stand, defend

The Queen of Swords sits throned, reversed
My choice maligned, my name is cursed
But Knight of Cups, aloft does ride
The universe, my love, abides
And as within display it seems
From darkness coming sun's bright beams
Two lovers standing on a cliff
Hand in hand at precipice

No love borne of similarity
For in the blend, disparity
One with heart of stone, dismayed
The other, by no storm allayed.