A LAST PRAYER TO THE GODDESS OF EASE.

"O thou generous Venus! O thou beautiful, bountiful calm!" - The Newcomes.

DEAR lazy goddess! in old time

How many happy hours I've spent

In careless indolence sublime,

To all, save thee, indifferent!

Thine, restful Ease, was all my youth; -

Forgive me, if my better years

I vow to others, - for, in truth,

Little I've gained of thee but tears.

I bring thee here, and thus devote,

Cigars and pipe and cigarettes;

An arm-chair deep, a new dress-coat;

I'll swear off poker, pay my debts,

Claret at dinner do without;

French novels I hereby abjure;

I'll turn my old acquaintance out,

To make my reformation sure.

And last, and hardest, I'll refrain

From what was erst a joy intense, -

No more, however great the strain,

I'll ply the "art of self-defence."

Take - take these letters, gloves, and curls,

Standards of forts once well defended;

Rosebuds and ribbons, given of girls, -

Relics of broken hearts, since mended.

And, Venus! if thou still art kind,

If ever thou propitious wert, -

Thou 'It to my vows be somewhat blind,

If, just a little, I may flirt?

J. K. M.