To the Bois de Boulogne shall we wander to-day,
Or visit the tomb where Napoleon reposes,
Or ascend Notre Dame, from its tow'rs to survey
The scene unsurpass'd which that prospect discloses?
From Boulevards crowded our steps may diverge,
If we wish at the Bourse[23] to see bright or long faces,
As some bubbles rise, or as others may merge
In the vortex where Hope vainly looks for their traces.
Shall we seek the Pantheon's vast edifice, where
An echo to thunder converts every sound,