OUR OWN AMBASSADOR.
Mr. Punch, meeting Columbia at the World's Fair, thus greeteth her:—
Columbia by Lake Michigan
A treasure-dome did late decree;
And all the world, in summer, ran,
In numbers measureless by man,
The Wondrous Show to see!
There many miles of fertile ground
With walls and towers were girdled round:
And there were gardens bright with sinuous rills
Surrounding halls of vast machinery.
And all earth's products, from fine arts to pills,
Massed in that maze by that great inland sea.
Fast, from that deep romantic chasm which slanted
Through Colorado, the Grand Cañon; over
Yellowstone's marvel—teeming miles enchanted;
Far-sweeping prairies erst by redskins haunted;
Steaming and railing, like bee-swarms to clover,
The world-crowd swept, with ceaseless turmoil seething;
It seemed the earth in eager pants was breathing
In a great race to see who should be first
Into that many-acred Show to burst,
And conquering Columbia there to hail
Creation-licker on colossal scale.
By Michigan's large lake, once and for ever,
Surpassing other Shows, in park, by river,
O'er miles meandering, this last Yankee Notion
Through wood and meadow like a river ran,
Vast Exposition of the Arts of Man!
Hyde Park compared therewith stirred small emotion,
And proud Columbia, waving Stripes and Stars,
Cried, "The White City whips the Champ de Mars!"
The shadow of that dome of treasure
Floated midway on the wave.
(See Castaigne's drawings—they're a pleasure—
In the May Century pictured brave.)
It was a miracle of rare device,
Costing "a pile," but cheap at any price!
A damsel with a five-stringed "Jo"
In a vision once I saw;
It was an Alabama maid,
And on her banjo light she played,
Singing of sweet Su-san-nah!
Could I revive within me
Amphion's lyric song,
To such a deep delight 'twould win me
As the music loud and long
That sure did raise this dome in air,
That mighty dome!—those halls of price!
Columbia's magic set them there,
And all who see cry, "Rare! O rare!
This beats great Kubla Khan's device!
Chicago outsoars Xanadu!
Columbia's World's Fair here on view
Eclipses Shedad's Paradise!"
There, Madam! The British Ambassador, Punch,
Has borrowed the lyre of the Opium-eater
To praise your unparalleled feat! By his hunch
'Twould tax that great master of magic and metre
To do it full justice. To paint such a vision
The limner need call on the aid of the Poppy.
It is a Big Blend of the Truly Elysian,
And (you'll comprehend!) the Colossally Shoppy!
Mix Haroun Alraschid with Mr. McKinley,
And Yellowstone Park with a Persian Bazaar,
And then the ensemble is sketched in but thinly.
For brush and for pen 'tis too mighty by far.
The fragment of Coleridge hinted at wonders
His Dream might have shown, had it ever been finished.
Columbia, I bear o'er the ocean that sunders
But cannot un-kin us, the love undiminished
Of all whom I speak for—that's England all over—
Here's luck, in a bumper, to you and your Show!
Ambassador Punch, your Admirer and Lover,
Believes the World's Fair will turn out a Great Go!
Music in May.—Albert Hall gave a good Concert last Wednesday night. C. V. Stanford's "East to West," libretto by Poet Swinburne, is cleverish. To encores Sir Joseph Barnby says, as a rule, "Not for Sir Joseph." Quite right. Miss Palliser, known as Miss Buckingham Palliser, because she sang at a Court Concert, charming; and Mr. E. J. Lloyd as The Old Obadiah, excellent. Chorus, like the weather, very fine; Orchestra set fair, or fair set. Hall full, but, now and again, it's a Hall-full place for sound.
