The vessel, as faster through light mists it flew, Till we thought of that word that once echoed sublime, “Light! be!” and Day marked the divisions of time. Thus we winged our swift course through the cool upper air, Now meeting a ship in the atmosphere rare, Now skimming above the blue boundless deep With its waves by warm zephyrs lulled softly to sleep. At last a gray cloud seemed to rise in the north; It neared us--and soon the glad sea-cry went forth, “Land! ho! ’tis old England--her white cliffs arise!” And we crowd to the front in joy and surprise. There it lay, in green beauty, but not as of yore, With its forts and its cannon bristling the shore; All hushed were the thunders that rolled o’er the land And no vessels of war polluted her strand. We stopped just above the world-renowned mart Of London, where science, wealth, learning and art, The treasures of ages, in countless store lay, Reserved ’till the dawn of a happier day. Then, softly descending, we stepped on firm ground To view the new objects and people around. The grim Tower rose before us--we entered the gate, Unguarded, as once by stern orders of state, For the jewels that in the rich diadems shone, No longer could tempt one to take for his own. Exposed on all sides, were rich scepters of kings, Tiaras, pearls, gems and a thousand bright things, Once prized as the emblems of place and of power, But now thought mere childish toys of the hour. The vestments of royalty too were displayed, Silk, satin, chenille, velvet, plush and brocade, With exquisite work of silver and gold, In fine threads that shone on each rich wavy fold, And I heard with surprise an attendant confess, ’Twas the work of long years to complete a court dress. “What folly!” I cried, “to deck the outside With garments to flatter and foster one’s pride, While the soul, the true being, of measureless worth, Is less prized and less cared for than mean things of earth.” “Where now are the lions,” I asked, “once confined, Brute prisoners, to show the power of mankind?” “O! their nature was changed and unchained now they roam, To find in the wide world, food, shelter and home. The curse that on Adam in Paradise fell, Scattering seeds of hate, desolation and hell, Is now gone forever--no wild beasts abound, And at last in his works God’s true image is found.” Looking down on the river, I marked its calm face Half hid by white sails from every place, The strange looking junk from distant Japan, Unchanged in its form since the empire began, The light buoyant bark of more modern time, Adapted for use in every clime, The swift gliding steamer with paddle or screw, The frigate, no longer exposing to view Its port-holes whence issued the missiles of war--