The Politician
'Let Glory's sons manipulate
The tiller of the Ship of State.
Be mine the humble, useful toil
To work the tiller of the soil.'
poem by Ambrose Bierce
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A Literary Hangman
Beneath his coat of dirt great Neilson loves
To hide the avenging rope.
He handles all he touches without gloves,
Excepting soap.
poem by Ambrose Bierce
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The Mad Philosopher
The flabby wine-skin of his brain
Yields to some pathologic strain,
And voids from its unstored abysm
The driblet of an aphorism.
poem by Ambrose Bierce
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At Anchor
The soft asphaltum in the sun;
Betrays a tendency to run;
Whereas the dog that takes his way
Across its course concludes to stay.
poem by Ambrose Bierce
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Creation
God dreamed-the suns sprang flaming into place,
And sailing worlds with many a venturous race!
He woke-His smile alone illumined space.
poem by Ambrose Bierce
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Adair Welcker, Poet
The Swan of Avon died-the Swan
Of Sacramento'll soon be gone;
And when his death-song he shall coo,
Stand back, or it will kill you too.
poem by Ambrose Bierce
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Hospitality
Why ask me, Gastrogogue, to dine
(Unless to praise your rascal wine)
Yet never ask some luckless sinner
Who needs, as I do not, a dinner?
poem by Ambrose Bierce
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Creation
GOD dreamed—the suns sprang flaming into place,
And sailing worlds with many a venturous race.
He woke—His smile alone illumined space.
poem by Ambrose Bierce
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On Stone
As in a dream, strange epitaphs I see,
Inscribed on yet unquarried stone,
Where wither flowers yet unstrown
The Campo Santo of the time to be.
poem by Ambrose Bierce
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Alone
In contact, lo! the flint and steel,
By sharp and flame, the thought reveal
That he the metal, she the stone,
Had cherished secretly alone.
poem by Ambrose Bierce
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