Where lurks the good invisible
Amid the depths of discord's sea--
That seem, alas! so dark to me!
Oppressive to a mighty state,
Contentions, feuds, the people's hate--
But who dare question that which fate
Has ordered to have been?
Haply the earthquake may unfold
The resting-place of purest gold,
And haply surges up have rolled
The pearls that were unseen!

G.W.M. REYNOLDS.



OUTSIDE THE BALL-ROOM.

_("Ainsi l'Hotel de Ville illumine.")_

[VI., May, 1833.]


Behold the ball-room flashing on the sight,
From step to cornice one grand glare of light;
The noise of mirth and revelry resounds,
Like fairy melody on haunted grounds.
But who demands this profuse, wanton glee,
These shouts prolonged and wild festivity--
Not sure our city--web, more woe than bliss,