“Looking back on this time,” the Princess writes, “it was a great refreshment to disappear in that vast London. We had never seen Max Müller till then, but had been often in communication with him, and we telegraphed to him that we were coming to Oxford. He received us at the station, and invited us to stay at his house. The two days spent in the peaceful atmosphere of his home, in that charming family circle which had not then been broken, soothed and cheered me. This happiness could not weigh upon the unhappy; it could but do one good and allay the storm. It was the happiness of a wise man. We also made the acquaintance of Jane Stanley. I had then finished a little book in the form of a missal for my mother, which I called ‘My Journey through the World’--all sorts of verses and rhymes, dedicated to my mother. Charles Kingsley was present when I surprised my mother with this present. I showed him the poem-- MY ONLY ONE. “O let no evil betide her, No sin her pure heart enthrall; My God, with Thine own hand guide her-- Thou knowest she is my all. His shining blue eyes filled with tears, and sobs heaved in his breast. My mother wept for sorrow and joy, and only I was tearless. This little book contained poems written from the time of my confirmation to my thirtieth year, of which my mother had seen hardly any, for they had, except on very exceptional occasions, been hidden from those nearest and dearest to me.” Amongst them were the two following poems written in English:-- SERVE THE LORD WITH GLADNESS. “Through Life’s deep shadow, grief and pain, Where none by me beloved remain, I ever heard the echoing strain, O serve the Lord with gladness. In sorrow and in anguish cast, When hope and joy away were passed, It oft came sounding in the blast, O serve the Lord with gladness. But now I know the joy that stays, The ever bright and sunny rays, And soft and low I sing the praise, O serve the Lord with gladness.” _March 3, 1868._ MY SUNNY HOME. “A sunny home It is to me, Where through the fields and forests free O’er hill and dale I roam. A sunny home In love’s sweet reign, Where sacrifice was ne’er a pain, Or labour wearisome. A sunny home Where every shade Is lighted by a ray that stayed Of sun and joy to come. A sunny home It’s still to me, When far away o’er land and sea A stranger sad I roam.”