One after one, they fall asleep
  And the pension agents awake to weep,
  And orphaned statesmen are loud in their wail
  As the souls flit by on the evening gale. 
  O Father of Battles, pray give us release
  From the horrors of peace, the horrors of peace!

INSPIRATION.

  O hoary sculptor, stay thy hand: 
    I fain would view the lettered stone. 
  What carvest thou?—­perchance some grand
    And solemn fancy all thine own. 
  For oft to know the fitting word
    Some humble worker God permits. 
      “Jain Ann Meginnis,
          Agid 3rd. 
      He givith His beluved fits.”

TO-DAY.

  I saw a man who knelt in prayer,
    And heard him say: 
  “I’ll lay my inmost spirit bare
        To-day.

  “Lord, for to-morrow and its need
    I do not pray;
  Let me upon my neighbor feed
        To-day.

  “Let me my duty duly shirk
    And run away
  From any form or phase of work
        To-day.

  “From Thy commands exempted still
    Let me obey
  The promptings of my private will
        To-day.

  “Let me no word profane, no lie
    Unthinking say
  If anyone is standing by
        To-day.

  “My secret sins and vices grave
    Let none betray;
  The scoffer’s jeers I do not crave
          To-day.

  “And if to-day my fortune all
    Should ebb away,
  Help me on other men’s to fall
          To-day.

  “So, for to-morrow and its mite
    I do not pray;
  Just give me everything in sight
          To-day.”

  I cried:  “Amen!” He rose and ran
    Like oil away. 
  I said:  “I’ve seen an honest man
          To-day.”

AN ALIBI.

  A famous journalist, who long
  Had told the great unheaded throng
  Whate’er they thought, by day or night. 
  Was true as Holy Writ, and right,
  Was caught in—­well, on second thought,
  It is enough that he was caught,
  And being thrown in jail became
  The fuel of a public flame.

“Vox populi vox Dei,” said The jailer.  Inxling bent his head Without remark:  that motto good In bold-faced type had always stood Above the columns where his pen Had rioted in praise of men And all they said—­provided he Was sure they mostly did agree.  Meanwhile a sharp and bitter strife To take, or save, the culprit’s life Or liberty (which, I suppose, Was much the same to him) arose Outside.  The journal that his pen Adorned denounced his crime—­but then Its editor in secret tried To have the indictment set aside.  The opposition papers swore His father was a rogue before, And all his wife’s relations were Like him and similar to her.  They begged their readers to subscribe A dollar