Shapes of Clay

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 each to make a bribe
  That any Judge would feel was large
  Enough to prove the gravest charge—
  Unless, it might be, the defense
  Put up superior evidence.
  The law's traditional delay
  Was all too short: the trial day
  Dawned red and menacing. The Judge
  Sat on the Bench and wouldn't budge,
  And all the motions counsel made
  Could not move him—and there he stayed.
  'The case must now proceed,' he said,
  'While I am just in heart and head,
  It happens—as, indeed, it ought—
  Both sides with equal sums have bought
  My favor: I can try the cause
  Impartially.' (Prolonged applause.)