A MERCIFUL GOVERNORStanding within the triple wall of Hell,And flattening his nose against a grateBehind whose brazen bars he'd had to dwellA thousand million ages to that date,Stoneman bewailed his melancholy fate,And his big tear-drops, boiling as they fell,Had worn between his feet, the record mentions,A deep depression in the "good intentions."Imperfectly by memory taught how—For prayer in Hell is a lost art—he prayed,Uplifting his incinerated browAnd flaming hands in supplication's aid."O grant," he cried, "my torment may be stayed—In mercy, some short breathing spell allow!If one good deed I did before my ghosting,Spare me and give Delmas a double roasting."Breathing a holy harmony in Hell,Down through the appalling clamors of the place,Charming them all to willing concord, fellA Voice ineffable and full of grace:"Because of all the law-defying raceOne single malefactor of the cellThou didst not free from his incarceration,Take thou ten thousand years of condonation."Back from their fastenings began to shootThe rusted bolts; with dreadful roar, the gateLaboriously turned; and, black with soot,The extinguished spirit passed that awful strait,And as he legged it into space, elate,Muttered: "Yes, I remember that galoot—I'd signed his pardon, ready to allot it,But stuck it in my desk and quite forgot it."
Standing within the triple wall of Hell,And flattening his nose against a grateBehind whose brazen bars he'd had to dwellA thousand million ages to that date,Stoneman bewailed his melancholy fate,And his big tear-drops, boiling as they fell,Had worn between his feet, the record mentions,A deep depression in the "good intentions."Imperfectly by memory taught how—For prayer in Hell is a lost art—he prayed,Uplifting his incinerated browAnd flaming hands in supplication's aid."O grant," he cried, "my torment may be stayed—In mercy, some short breathing spell allow!If one good deed I did before my ghosting,Spare me and give Delmas a double roasting."Breathing a holy harmony in Hell,Down through the appalling clamors of the place,Charming them all to willing concord, fellA Voice ineffable and full of grace:"Because of all the law-defying raceOne single malefactor of the cellThou didst not free from his incarceration,Take thou ten thousand years of condonation."Back from their fastenings began to shootThe rusted bolts; with dreadful roar, the gateLaboriously turned; and, black with soot,The extinguished spirit passed that awful strait,And as he legged it into space, elate,Muttered: "Yes, I remember that galoot—I'd signed his pardon, ready to allot it,But stuck it in my desk and quite forgot it."