I asked the cause: the aged man grew sad:
They pointed to a building gray and tall,
And hoarsely answered “Step inside, my lad,
And then you'll see it all.”<br /><br />

Yet what are all such gaieties to me
Whose thoughts are full of indices and surds?
x² + 7x + 53
=11/3.<br /><br />
But something whispered “It will soon be done:
Bands cannot always play, nor ladies smile:
Endure with patience the distasteful fun
For just a little while!”<br /><br />
A change came o’er my Vision–it was night:
We clove a pathway through a frantic throng:
The steeds, wild-plunging, filled us with affright:
The chariots whirled along.<br /><br />
Within a marble hall a river ran–
A living tide, half muslin and half cloth:
And here one mourned a broken wreath or fan,
Yet swallowed down her wrath;<br /><br />