A Last Call At The Palace Of Glass, 1851. Poem by Martin Farquhar Tupper

Lightly blown, and soon to break
Like a bubble on the stream,
Yet once more, for wonder's sake,
Will I woo thee, brilliant Dream!
O thou Crystal of this earth,
Rich and rare, and pure and bright,
Never since Creation's birth
Was there seen so fair a sight!

What a beauteous open book
Fill'd with all the Wit of Man!
What a scroll whereon to look
And its characters to scan!
Yea, what thoughts the heart to thrill,-
Yea, what eloquence, what power!
Genius, Labour, Art, and Skill,
In one 'bright consummate Flower!'

Like an Aloe, late in time,
With its fairy flags unfurl'd
Stands in beauty half-sublime
This last wonder of the world:
Yet in like ephemeral strength
Soon its blossoms must decay,
And Earth's Aloe, blown at length,
Fades and droops, and dies away!

Dies away? - No! not all dead:
Seeds are there of light and truth:
Not in vain this book outspread
Has been read by age and youth:
Not in vain the Nations throng'd,
Yearning for each others' good,
And with generous fervour long'd
For the kiss of Brotherhood!

Queen,- there have been conquering kings,
But their glory pales to thine:
Prince,- there have been noble things
Well achieved in 'auld lang syne:'
Yet, till now, was never seen
Happier glory, nobler fame,
Than surrounds our English Queen,
And her Albert's Saxon name!