Dark city of London! Within thy deep breast
There are poor without hope, and forlorn without rest.
And, ah! when shall the woes of thy wretched ones cease,
And a wise-taught humanity kindly give peace?
Aramis.
The Meteing of the Waters.
There is not, in the Session, a joke so complete
As the sight when the Tories and Turtlemen meet
In conflict direct about water-supply,