STANZAS ON THE PEACEFUL STRUGGLE IN EUROPE.

Slumbereth now the British Lion, In his sweet green Island lair? No! He rushes forth to die on Europe's plains, or crush the Bear.

Now he may well hope for glory, Warring in defense of Right. Will he soon be faint and gory From the Czar's most lawless fight?

Oh, forbid it, God of Battles— In whom we would place our trust! Ere is heard his cannon's rattles Quench the Bear's most savage lust!

Turn him back to his own regions, Though a wild and bitter clime; Wide disperse his barbarous legions In Thy own good way and time.

If in Wisdom thou ordainest This dread war shall still proceed— Let us feel thou ever reignest Through the saddest hours of need;

That thou still as Sovereign rulest O'er the Nations of this world; That thou yet mad Despots schoolest, Ere they to the dust are hurled.

O preserve our generous Lion, And his partners in the War; Bid their hosts thy arm rely on; Guard each soldier, shield each tar.

Let we see them soon returning To their now deserted domes; Let pure joy instead of mourning Fill their fondly cherished homes.

May we profit by the lesson Which events like this should teach— Seek to put away transgression, Act as healers of each breach.

Then we long may share God's favor— From the Queen upon her throne To the lowly son of labor Toiling his poor crust to own.