A Reberie about the Crystal Palace. 15

Thy sweet spirit-Brotherhood!

This was in thee like a Soul,
Every Part to gild with good,
And to glorify the Whole!

Appeal for a National Expression of Praise

AT THE CLOSE OF "THE GREAT EXHIBITION."

When with Prayer we well begin,

And are prosper'd many ways,

It were pity, shame, and sin,

Not to make an end with Praise :
Lack of faith is at the root,
Spoiling all that seem'd so fair,
If no thanks are all the fruit
Of a conquest won by Pray'r.

Truly, was it well begun—

Well continued with success;
Let the word be still "well-done,"
And the thought be "thankfulness!
Why should all the nations say
That religious England pray'd,
But from praising slunk away
Half ashamed, and half afraid?

England! to thyself be true,

And with guests from every land,

To The LORD give glory due
For this blessing at His hand!

16 Appeal for a National Expression of Praise.

If the victories of War

Claim'd Te Deums in old days,
Peace, on her triumphal car,

Well may win us all to Praise!

A Rhyme for the Close of the Great Exhibition.

Glory to the God of heaven

Peace on earth, tow'rds men good will!
Now let honours due be given

To the best of human skill;
Always will we deal with others

As we would they dealt with us,
And rejoice, as men and brothers,
To befriend each other thus!

Nobly hast thou fruited, Labour !
Brightly hast thou flower'd, Art!
Well has England hail'd as neighbour
Every nation to her heart!
Yes,-for all on earth are brothers,

High and low, and far and near,
And the more we see of others

All the more we hold them dear!

Narrow liking, and disliking,
Prejudice hath died away;
Hand in hand together striking
Man with man is link'd to-day;

While we feel that all are brothers,

Children dear of One above-
And the more we know of others
All the more we live in Love!

For it is a glorious teaching,

Albert, thou hast taught mankind,—
Greatly to perfection reaching,

And enlarging heart and mind;
Stirring us, and stirring others
Thus to do the best we can
And with all the zeal of brothers
Help the Family of Man!

God be thank'd! that thus united
All the world for once has been,
Crowding welcome and delighted

Round the throne of England's Queen;
God be thank'd, that we and others,
England with the World around,
Thus have sought to love as brothers,
And the good we sought, have found!

An Afterthought Sonnet,

ADDED TO MY SEVERAL BALLADS ABOUT THE GREAT EXHIBITION.

Yet was it an unsatisfying meal,

A poor dry pittance to the Souls of men
That long for spiritual food, and then

Only are feasted, when they love and feel!

C

No more than so; a this-world's commonweal,
Triumphant Matter rang'd from pole to pole;
And our Valhalla, to High Wisdom's ken,
Had not one drop of balm the heart to heal,

One ray of peace the conscience to console!
Oh! Man needs more than merchandise, to make
His better nature quicken, and unseal

His eyes, from sinful slumber that they wake:

He thirsts for Thoughts, and starves on thirsty Things, He spurns this grovelling Earth, and yearns for Wings!

Is it peace, thou child of reason?
Is it peace, ye men of earth?
Can to-day's uncertain season
Hail with hope to-morrow's birth?
Was the cry from yonder Palace

Peace, indeed-or Peace no more?

Hark, again! Sin, War, and Malice

Stir a storm on every shore!

Is it peace? Conspiring nations,
What have ye to do with peace,
While this Jezebel's incantations

And her witchcrafts never cease? Throw her down, and tread her under! Dogs of people, lap her blood! While the world, in reckless wonder, Revels, as before the Flood!

Ha! what peace? for all is hollow;
Faith is weak, and love grows cold;
And the gamblers madly follow

Lies and lusts and greed of gold;
And the Jesuit's stealthy treason
Undermines our inner life
Of affection, truth, and reason,
Warring with us to the knife!

Ha! what peace? Sin, War, and Malice
Stand in the Flaminian gate,
Holding forth Rome's poison'd chalice,
And her dagger edged with hate;

Striving, as of old, to barter

Souls for drinks of deadly wine,

Or with aged lust to martyr

Saints of GOD at Satan's shrine!

No! the trumpets, and the thunders,
And the vials, and the seals,

And the thousand signs and wonders
Every pregnant hour reveals,