All miracles of beauty shall be wrought,
Attesting a diviner faith than man’s;
For all my sad-eyed daughters of the night
Shall smile on your sweet seraphim of thought,
Nor any jealous god forbid the banns.
THE BIRTH OF VIRTUE.
When, long ago, the young world circling
flew
Through wider reaches of a richer blue,
New-eyed, the men and maids saw, manifest,
The thoughts untold in one another’s
breast:
Each wish displayed, and every passion
learned—
A look revealed them as a look discerned.
But sating Time with clouds o’ercast
their eyes;
Desire was hidden, and the lips framed
lies.
A goddess then, emerging from the dust,
Fair Virtue rose, the daughter of Distrust.
STONEMAN IN HEAVEN.
The Seraphs came to Christ, and said:
“Behold!
The man, presumptuous and overbold,
Who boasted that his mercy could excel
Thine own, is dead and on his way to Hell.”
Gravely the Saviour asked: “What
did he do
To make his impious assertion true?”
“He was a Governor, releasing all
The vilest felons ever held in thrall.
No other mortal, since the dawn of time,
Has ever pardoned such a mass of crime!”
Christ smiled benignly on the Seraphim:
“Yet I am victor, for I pardon him.”
THE SCURRIL PRESS.
TOM JONESMITH (loquitur): I’ve slept right through The night—a rather clever thing to do. How soundly women sleep (looks at his wife.) They’re all alike. The sweetest thing in life Is woman when she lies with folded tongue, Its toil completed and its day-song sung. (Thump) That’s the morning paper. What a bore That it should be delivered at the door. There ought to be some expeditious way To get it to one. By this long delay The fizz gets off the news (a rap is heard). That’s Jane, the housemaid; she’s an early bird; She’s brought it to the bedroom door, good soul. (Gets up and takes it in.) Upon the whole The system’s not so bad a one. What’s here? Gad, if they’ve not got after—listen dear (To sleeping wife)—young Gastrotheos! Well, If Freedom shrieked when Kosciusko fell She’ll shriek again—with laughter—seeing how They treated Gast. with her. Yet I’ll allow ’T is right if he goes dining at The Pup With Mrs. Thing.
WIFE (briskly, waking up):
With her? The hussy! Yes, it
serves him right.
JONESMITH (continuing to “seek
the light"):
What’s this about old Impycu?
That’s good!
Grip—that’s the funny
man—says Impy should
Be used as a decoy in shooting tramps.
I knew old Impy when he had the “stamps”
To buy us all out, and he wasn’t
then
So bad a chap to have about. Grip’s