For strife, hate and conflict existed no more. A hundred bright flags were floating in air, Each, the name of some country or race to declare; Not, as once, the proud banner to wave in the fight, The theme of the poet--the warrior’s delight, But the emblem of peace and of love among men Long ago sung by angels on Bethlehem’s plain. ’Twas a glorious sight--but I could not delay; So, descending the Tower, swiftly passed on my way. All the streets seemed alive with a slow-moving throng, But no jostling was known as they travelled along; Every one knew another, each face beamed with joy And nought was heard, seen, or felt to annoy. The streets and the pavements were so smoothly laid, For safety and ease, both for man and beast made, That one might walk on from morning till night. Unfatigued, to enjoy each varying sight. A thousand wide stores were thrown open to view. Piled with goods whose use our fathers ne’er knew. There were garments for all, without stitch or seam, Robes dyed as in colors of sunset’s rich beam, Wings on frames, to be used on the earth or in air. With speed on his journey the pilgrim to bear; But time will not allow me the list to rehearse Of all these strange sights, in this fugitive verse; Suffice it to say, every thing that I saw Was strictly conformed to one excellent law That forbade all mankind to make or to use Any goods that a Christian would ever refuse. No trimmings nor ribbons hung flying around, No vile trashy novels on book shelves were found, No flaring, gay posters announced some bold lie Made only to catch the gaping crowd’s eye. No cards in the windows were seen to declare That the cheapest and best in the world were sold there; No drinking saloons stared full in one’s face, No compounders of liquors were seen in the place; They had all gone below with the spirits accursed, Of all Satan’s agents the vilest and worst. Tobacco was none--no smoker’s breath there Annoyed the nice sense or corrupted the air. Surprised at the fact, “How is this? I enquired, When a patriarch near me, in pure white attired. Replied, “Is it true that one being on earth Knows not that the world was reformed in new birth! I have heard, when a boy, my grandsire affirm That the plant in one night was destroyed by a worm, And never since then, half a century ago, Has any one seen it or known it to grow; The panic from pole to equator was great As any past earthquake was known to create, And some ventured to say that thousands indeed Would die for the want of their favorite weed. But the prophecy failed--from disuse followed health, Purer lives, better morals and wisdom and wealth. “And where are the dram shops--the houses for dance, Where, heated by wine and lost as in trance,