. Book of the Royal blue . otbe stopped. These buildings will disappear; this creation ofart and beauty and industry will perish from sight, but theirinfluence will remain to Make it live beyond its too short livingWith praises and thanksgiving. Who can tell the new thoughts that have been awakened,the ambitions fired and the high achievements that will bewrought through this exposition? Gentlemen, let us everremember that our interest is in concord, not conflict, andthat our real eminence rests in the victories of peace, notthose of war. We hope that all who are represented heremay be moved t
. Book of the Royal blue . otbe stopped. These buildings will disappear; this creation ofart and beauty and industry will perish from sight, but theirinfluence will remain to Make it live beyond its too short livingWith praises and thanksgiving. Who can tell the new thoughts that have been awakened,the ambitions fired and the high achievements that will bewrought through this exposition? Gentlemen, let us everremember that our interest is in concord, not conflict, andthat our real eminence rests in the victories of peace, notthose of war. We hope that all who are represented heremay be moved to higher and nobler effort for their own andthe worlds good, and that out of this city may come, notonly greater commerce and trade for us all, but, moreessential than these, relations of mutual respect, confidenceand friendship which will deepen and endure. Our earnest prayer is that God will graciously vouchsafeprosperity, happiness and peace to all our neighbors, and likeblessings to all the peoples and powers of N !. \\. D. Xesbit. AT rest—Folded hands across his breast;In the rest that was desiredBy his murmured: I am a shadow on his face,Where a smile has left its traceAs thougli Death his marble lipsTouched with tender we wonder if the peace Which his form encompassethIs the glory of his the majesty of death. .d from all the land there comes. As the requiems grandly surge,With the lilt of muffled drums, Sighing strains of Sorrows ! A nations heart is rent In the greatness of its the Gate of Grief unpent: Hear a stricken nations sobs! At rest— With his hands prone on his hands, that rest todayFrom their pointing out the way:Weary hands, that wrought for peace;Hands that bade the warfare cease;Weary hands—as white and fairAs the waxen lilies his soul has journeyed —there is the coming dawn,And the Sorrow of todayBringeth Hope with her alway. Who can sing a good ma
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