I wis, in all the Palace There was no heart so bold, But wished himself well out of it, When that ill news was told. Up rose at length Prince Albert, Up rose the whole Commission, And at the footstool of the throne They laid the Exhibition. Just then burst in a messenger, With cold sweat on his brow: “Look here, look here, my gracious Prince! “They say there’ll be a row!” Upon the fatal newspaper Prince Albert turned his eye, And saw a night of wretchedness Darken his sunny sky. And plainly and more plainly In history’s page he read, The gibes and jeers and sarcasms, Heaped on his luckless head: And the stigma of ridiculous, More terrible than guilt, Stamped by unborn Macaulays, On “the House that Albert built.” And plainly and more plainly He heard the words of doom, When all the year’s expenses Are checked by Joseph Hume; And the outcry of the journals, And the angry people’s hisses, And his loving consort’s mild reproof, “You know whose doing _this_ is!” And the Prince’s voice was sad, And dim his eye of blue: “It’s come to this, my gracious wife, “We don’t know what to do! “There’s not a soul contented; “The tickets will not sell; “And now the papers prophesy “Such things I fear to tell! “The French will spoil our morals, “The Russians cheat and _knout_ us-- “They’ll haunt us like musquitoes, “Like snakes they’ll twine about us-- “The Chartist and the Communist “Will hand in hand combine, “And break the Crystal Palace “About your head and mine! Then out spake Queen Victoria, And brightly glanced her eye: “I never heard such nonsense! “I only wish they’d try! “Don’t mind those vile reports, dear-- “’Twill all come right, you’ll see: “Just keep the workmen moving, “And leave the rest to me! “I’ll order out the carriage, “My royal robes I’ll wear, “And though the crowd be millions deep, “No matter--I’ll be there! “And in the face of rough John Bull, “Whate’er he means to do, “I’ll smile until he smiles again, “And gives a cheer for you! “There’ll be some foolish people there, “Indeed, where are they not? “Perhaps they’ll throw a stone or two, “Or fire a little shot: “They never hit me yet, dear, “Except upon my bonnet; “So don’t persuade me not to go-- “I’ve set my heart upon it! “Unpack the parcels, gentlemen, “As quickly as ye may: “Tell all your foreign colleagues, “I’ll hear of no delay! “Though foemen league in millions, “We’ll charm away their malice, “And walk together, arm in arm, “Right through the Crystal Palace!”