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Condolence.

EmpireBritannia weeps!—Ah! well she may
Shed fond affection’s tear o’er loss sustained,
In “ALBERT,” now no more!
But not like those who have no stay
Of hope to lean upon: such hope maintained,
May comfort yet restore!

She weeps!—Because no more such deeds
Of high renown like those he has achieved,
Exalting high her name,
Can be performed, like sowing seeds
Of peace throughout the world;—all well received,
Much adding to her fame!

On him she reckon’d with delight,
As source of many virtues, yet in time,
Upon the world to shine;
While at his torch might others light
Their tapers, gladly prizing the sublime
Of deeds, they’d call “divine!”

Or share in bliss of Freedom’s cause,
As planets take their lustre from the sun,
His honors fain t’ assume!—
Now him she sadly mourns, who was
So hopeful once!—Her ALBERT’S race is run,
And now he’s in the tomb!

Britannia weeps!—Nor are the isles,
Afar, insensible to all that grief,
Which pains a loving heart!
Pleased with her kinship, filial toils
They urge to give condolence!—Yea, in brief,
In loss they claim a part!

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But, need she weep?—as he remiss
Had been in duties Heav’n to him assigned;—
Such tasks he did fulfill!
And now to his reward of bliss,
As he is called, so may she be resigned
To the great Master’s will!

Religion; Morality; Nation; Government; FutureGreat hopes has she for future good,
Seeing he trained his youths to virtue’s cause,
Her princes and her kings;
Corruption checking in the bud,
Aspirants bending to respect the laws,
Bespoke great future things!

Yea, grand events of vast import
To the advancement of the world at large,
As the commands of Heaven!
May such console, and cheer her heart,
While th’ honors feeling of so great a charge,
In worth immortal given!

Now, future generations shall
Look back and pay respect to all his worth
Avowed for imitation;
A grand criterion this of all
That’s great or good, in heaven or earth,
Or worthy in a nation!

Thus taking comfort in such hope,
Thy tears be dried, nor droop despondingly,
But quite dispel such gloom;
His fame exemplar having scope,
In every heart he’ll live transcendingly,
Though lying in the tomb!

February, 1862.