AGRICULTURAL HALL. 59 



" While flags of war like storm-birds fly, 

 And charging trumpets blow; 

 Yet rolls no thunder in the sky, 

 No earthquake strives below. 



And calm and patient nature keeps 



Her ancient promise well, 

 Though o'er her bloom and greenness sweeps 



The battle breath of hell. 



And still she walks in golden hours 



Through harvest happy farms, 

 And still she wears her fruits and flowers 



Like jewels on her arms. 



Ah ! eyes may well be full of tears, 



And hearts with hate are hot ; 

 But even-paced come round the years. 



And Mature changes not. 



Still in the cannon's pause we hear 



Her sweet thanksgiving psalm ; 

 Too near to God for doubt or fear, 



She shares the eternal calm. 



She knows the seed lies safe below 



The fires that blast and burn ; 

 For all the tears of blood we sow 



She waits the rich return. 



She sees with clearer eye than ours 



The good of suffering born ; 

 The hearts that blossom like her flowers 



And ripen like her corn. 



Oh, give to us her finer ear 



Above this stormy din ; 

 We too would hear the bells of cheer 



Ring Peace and Freedom in." 



