To the brim they will fill up a sack, And drink a good health to the nation, Then clap it on Prince ALBERT’S back, What a change it will be in his station. There will be dukes and earls too, Coal merchants, silk weavers and wasters, When AL will put on his smock frock, Knee breeches, white stockings and gaiters, A coal porter ALBERT will be. Let us hope they will have a good trade, And be able to flare up like flinders, There’s many a fortune been made By wetting the coals and the cinders. Prince ALBERT will not be compelled To carry the sacks, but he’d rather, And the young PRINCE OF WALES will be there, For to measure the coals for his father. Seven pounds for a penny, good weight. So now to conclude, my good friends, If it won’t be a sight, it’s a pity, The QUEEN and her husband so fine, And her children, all down in the City. The colliers drest all in their best, At the Custom House wait to receive her, Here’s a health to Victoria so grand, And Prince ALBERT the slashing coalheaver, A dealer in Newcastle coals. _CRYSTAL PALACE._ BRITANNIA’S sons an attentive ear One moment lend to me, Whether tillers of our fruitful soil, Or lords of high degree. Mechanic too, and artizan, Old England’s pride and boast, Whose wondrous skill has spread around, Far, far from Britain’s coast. _Chorus._ For the World’s great Exhibition, Let’s shout with loud huzza, All nations never can forget, The glorious first of May. From every quarter of the Globe, They come across the sea, And to the Chrystal Palace The wonders for to see; Raised by the handiwork of men Born on British ground, A challenge to the Universe It’s equal to be found. Each friendly nation in the world, Have their assistance lent, And to this Exhibition Have their productions sent. And with honest zeal and ardour, With pleasure do repair, With hands outstretch’d, and gait erect, To the World’s Great National Fair. The Sons of England and France And America likewise, With other nations to contend, To bear away the prize. With pride depicted in their eyes, View the offspring of their hand, O, surely England’s greatest wealth, Is an honest working man. It is a glorious sight to see So many thousands meet, Not heeding creed or country, Each other friendly greet. Like children of one mighty sire, May that sacred tie ne’er cease, May the blood stain’d sword of War give way To the Olive branch of Peace. But hark! the trumpets flourish, Victoria does approach, That she may long be spared to us Shall be our reigning toast. I trust each heart, it will respond, To what I now propose-- Good will and plenty to her friends, And confusion to her foes.