ON A LIBRARY WALL

When faltering fingers bid me cease to write,

And, laying down the pen, I seek the Night,

May those, to whom the Daylight still is sweet,

With loving lips my name ofttimes repeat.

And should Belshazzar's spirit hither stray,

And linger o'er the lines I write to-day,

May he, who wept for Babylonia's fall,

Look kindly at this “writing on the wall”!