n time His harvest-sheaves are stored,
'For My thoughts are not your thoughts,' saith the Lord,
'Nor are your ways My ways.'
He Who spared not the Son His bitter cup,
The broken heart binds up
In His fit hour, All-Merciful!--And she,
The desolate faithful Mother, in the nest
By children's love soft-woven, has found rest;
Some constant to her side, if some have flown
The Angels' road, and see
The Vision of the Eternal Throne:--
With them, 'tis well!--But thou,
Strong through submission, to His will dost bow,
Till God renew the home in that far realm unseen,
And bless with all her lost ones England's Queen.

Yet in great Nature's changeful mystic dance
Joy circles grief, gay dawn outsmiles the night:
'Tis meet our song should build its radiance
Like some high palace-porch, and walls that glance
With gold and marble light:
Now fifty suns 'neath one firm patriot sway
Have whirl'd their shining way.
--Lo Commerce with the golden girdling chain
That links all nations for the good of each;
While Science boasts her silent lightning speech
Swifter than thought; and how her patience rein'd
To post o'er earth and main
The panting white-breath'd Titan, chain'd
Bondslave to man:--and won
The magic spark o'erdazzling star and sun
From its dark cave: for He, the all-seeing Lord unseen
Enlightening, bless'd the years of England's Queen.

Freedom of England! from thy sacred source
Where Alfred arm'd in Athelney, welling pure,
With hero-blood dyed in thy widening course,
--What loyaler hand than her's to guide thy force
Down ancient channels sure?
Honour of England! in what bosom stirs
Thy soul more quick than her's?
Yet in her days . . . O greater grief, than when
In years of woe, the years of happiness
Flash o'er us,--to behold,--and no redress,--
Some deed of shame we cannot cure nor stay!
Our best, our man of men,
Martyr'd inch-meal by dull delay!
Ah, sacred, hidden grave!
Ah gallant comrade feet, love-wing'd to save,
Too late, too late!--But Thou, Whose counsels work unseen,
Spare us henceforth such pangs, spare England's Queen

O much enduring, much revered! To thee
Bring sun-dyed millions love more sweet than fame,
And happy isles that star the purple sea
Homage;--and children at the mother's knee
With her's unite thy name;
And faithful hearts, that throb 'nea