The New Monthly Magazine, Volume 19, Pages 155-157
RECORDS OF WOMAN.—NO. X.
Pauline.*[1]
One adequate support
For the calamities of mortal life
Exists, one only;—an assured belief
That the procession of our fate, howe'er
Sad or disturb'd, is order'd by a Being
Of infinite benevolence and power,
Whose everlasting purposes embrace
All accidents, converting them to good.
Wordsworth.
Along the star-lit Seine went music swelling,
Till the air thrill'd with its exulting mirth;
Proudly it floated, even as if no dwelling
For cares or stricken hearts were found on earth;
And a glad sound the measure lightly beat,
A happy chime of many-dancing feet.
For in a palace of the land that night
Lamps and fresh roses and green leaves were hung,
And from the painted walls a stream of light
On flying forms beneath soft splendor flung:
But loveliest far amidst the revel's pride
Was one, the lady from the Danube-side.
- ↑
* For the affecting story of the Princess Pauline Schwarzenberg, see Madam de Stael's L'Allemagne, vol. iii. p. 336.
