Cooperation
No more the swindler singly seeks his prey;
To hunt in couples is the modern way
A rascal, from the public to purloin,
An honest man to hide away the coin.
poem by Ambrose Bierce
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Magnanimity
'To the will of the people we loyally bow!'
That's the minority shibboleth now.
O noble antagonists, answer me flat
What would you do if you didn't do that?
poem by Ambrose Bierce
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An Inscription (For A Statue Of Napoleon, At West Point)
A famous conqueror, in battle brave,
Who robbed the cradle to supply the grave.
His reign laid quantities of human dust:
He fell upon the just and the unjust.
poem by Ambrose Bierce
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A Literary Method
His poems Riley says that he indites
Upon an empty stomach. Heavenly Powers,
Feed him throat-full: for what the beggar writes
Upon his empty stomach empties ours!
poem by Ambrose Bierce
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Samuel Shortridge
Like a worn mother he attempts in vain
To still the unruly Crier of his brain:
The more he rocks the cradle of his chin
The more uproarious grows the brat within.
poem by Ambrose Bierce
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A Culinary Candidate
A cook adorned with paper cap,
Or waiter with a tray,
May be a worthy kind of chap
In his way,
But when we want one for Recorder,
Then, Mr. Walton, take our order.
poem by Ambrose Bierce
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Democracy
Let slaves and subjects with unvaried psalms
Before their sovereign execute salaams;
The freeman scorns one idol to adore
Tom, Dick and Harry and himself are four.
poem by Ambrose Bierce
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An Inscription (For a Proposed Monument in Washington)
Erected to 'Boss' Shepherd by the dear
Good folk he lived and moved among in peace
Guarded on either hand by the police,
With soldiers in his front and in his rear.
poem by Ambrose Bierce
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To A Critic Of Tennyson
Affronting fool, subdue your transient light;
When Wisdom's dull dares Folly to be bright:
If Genius stumble in the path to fame,
'Tis decency in dunces to go lame.
poem by Ambrose Bierce
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Fleet Strother
What! you were born, you animated doll,
Within the shadow of the Capitol?
'Twas always thought (and Bancroft so assures
His trusting readers) it was reared in yours.
poem by Ambrose Bierce
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