'There is, perhaps, no subject of more universal interest in the whole range of natural knowledge, than that of the unceasing fluctuations which take place in the atmosphere in which we are immersed.'
-- British Almanack.
Dear Alice! you'll laugh when you know it, --
Last week, at the Duchess's ball,
I danced with the clever new poet, --
You've heard of him, -- Tully St. Paul. ...
I dream'd there would be Spring no more,
That Nature's ancient power was lost:
The streets were black with smoke and frost,
They chatter'd trifles at the door:
I wander'd from the noisy town,
I found a wood with thorny boughs:
I took the thorns to bind my brows,
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