POETRY.

JUNE 21sv.

As men look back in after-days Where once they trod in slippery ways, And find fresh theme for love and praise ; And here, they tell, the snow was deep, And there we venturous dared to creep Along crevasses dark and deep; And there we cut the wall of ice, Or, desperate gamblers throwing dice For life, we clomb the precipice : And all the way we went along, With spirits clear and bosoms strong, We often wandered, oft went wrong.

One step alone, the next, we knew; Yet still an onward instinct drew Our progress, till with evening dew, As birds at twilight roosting come, We reached our fair Italian home, The slumbering lake, the peaceful dome.

So we, who after fifty years Look back remembering hopes and fears, Melt into gratitude of tears, For all that is ! the might-have-been Forgot, in this her triumph-scene When England gathers around her Queen !

For peace at home, and heard afar, Heard only, threat of distant war, No bloodstain here our fields to mar !

For India held with stubborn mood When, 'gainst the furious Sepoy-flood, Dauntless our little leaguers stood ! Or where, on bleak Crimean height, Nigh lost, the soldier saved the fight, And, when chiefs blundered, brought all right!

Or where, 'mid fiend-like dervish-yell, Betrayed, deserted, Gordon fell,

And England shuddered, as at a knell,—

Too late to save, but not to mourn ; Yet of one hero left forlorn Proud to believe a hundred born !

For something lost, yet more of gain ; For healing arts that soften pain, That ease the nerve, and soothe the brain !

For Nature conquered, powers of strife Made fruitful, powers with blessing rife; For arts of beauty sweetening life !

For knowledge spread, and useful lore Brought to the humblest cottage-door, For kindlier touch 'twixt rich and poor !

For wider justice clasping all, And, broken down the parting-wall, One law alike to great and small !

For freedom, elsewhere snatched not given. Here working like a wholesome leaven, Raising the heart, and opening heaven!

For these, for all; the good acquired, The goal that once our fathers fired Now starting-point for good desired!

Whate'er our lot, where'er our way, On this at last her crowning-day, Father, to Thee we kneel and pray :— For her, long life with glorious close, And, dying, honoured place with those Who lived to lighten human woes; Who set an aureole round the crown, And loftier rise by stooping down Than in low heavens of war-renown!

For us, that like our sires of old, Statesman, and soldier, seaman bold, We may her Empire strongly hold; 'Whether, now reached its farthest scope, Our downward path begin to slope, Or upward climb with boundless hope, With equal heart for every fate, Not cowering crashed by fortune's weight, Not with prosperity elate, But storm, or sunshine, taking all, Indifferent save at duty's call To meet the hour, whate'er befall.

For He whose scales the nations weigh, The Lord of night, the Lord of day, Breathes, and as flowers we fade away r And yet again, with pity stirred, Sweet as at dawn the waking bird, "Rejoice ! arise !" His voice is heard.

So seems it still our wisest trust, To bravely bear what bear we muet, And reverent answer, God is just. A. G. B.