Ambrose Bierce

Words shouting, singing, smiling, frowning— Sense lacking. Ah, nothing, more obscure than Browning, Save blacking.

O Liberty, God-gifted— Young and immortal maid— In your high hand uplifted, The torch declares your trade. Its crimson menace, flaming Upon the sea and shore, Is, trumpet-like, proclaiming That Law shall be no more. Austere incendiary, We're blinking in the light; Where is your customary Grenade of dynamite? Where are your staves and switches For men of gentle birth? Your mask and dirk for riches? Your chains for wit and worth? Perhaps, you've brought the halters You used in the old days, When round religion's altars You stabled Cromwell's bays? Behind you, unsuspected, Have you the axe, fair wench, Wherewith you once collected A poll-tax for the French? America salutes you— Preparing to "disgorge." Take everything that suits you, And marry Henry George.

How blest the land that counts among Her sons so many good and wise, To execute great feats of tongue When troubles rise. Behold them mounting every stump, By speech our liberty to guard. Observe their courage—see them jump, And come down hard! "Walk up, walk up!" each cries aloud, "And learn from me what you must do To turn aside the thunder cloud, The earthquake too. "Beware the wiles of yonder quack Who stuffs the ears of all that pass. I—I alone can show that black Is white as grass." They shout through all the day and break The silence of the night as well. They'd make—I wish they'd go and make— Of Heaven a Hell. A advocates free silver, B Free trade and C free banking laws. Free board, clothes, lodging would from me Win warm applause. Lo, D lifts up his voice: "You see The single tax on land would fall On all alike." More evenly No tax at all. "With paper money," bellows E, "We'll all be rich as lords." No doubt— And richest of the lot will be The chap without. As many "cures" as addle-wits Who know not what the ailment is! Meanwhile the patient foams and spits Like a gin fizz. Alas, poor Body Politic, Your fate is all too clearly read: To be not altogether quick, Nor very dead. You take your exercise in squirms, Your rest in fainting fits between. 'Tis plain that your disorder's worms— Worms fat and lean. Worm Capital, Worm Labor dwell Within your maw and muscle's scope. Their quarrels make your life a Hell, Your death a hope. God send you find not such an end To ills however sharp and huge! God send you convalesce! God send You vermifuge.

Have but one God: thy knees were sore If bent in prayer to three or four. Adore no images save those The coinage of thy country shows. Take not the Name in vain. Direct Thy swearing unto some effect. Thy hand from Sunday work be held— Work not at all unless compelled. Honor thy parents, and perchance Their wills thy fortunes may advance. Kill not—death liberates thy foe From persecution’s constant woe. Kiss not thy neighbor’s wife. Of course There’s no objection to divorce. To steal were folly, for ’tis plain In cheating there is greater gain. Bear not false witness. Shake your head And say that you have “heard it said.” Who stays to covet ne’er will catch An opportunity to snatch.

For a Statue of Napoleon A conqueror as provident as brave, He robbed the cradle to supply the grave. His reign laid quantities of human dust: He fell upon the just and the unjust.

Day of Satan's painful duty! Earth shall vanish, hot and sooty; So says Virtue, so says Beauty. Ah! what terror shall be shaping When the Judge the truth's undraping— Cats from every bag escaping! Now the trumpet's invocation Calls the dead to condemnation; All receive an invitation. Death and Nature now are quaking, And the late lamented, waking, In their breezy shrouds are shaking. Lo! the Ledger's leaves are stirring, And the Clerk, to them referring, Makes it awkward for the erring. When the Judge appears in session, We shall all attend confession, Loudly preaching non-suppression. How shall I then make romances Mitigating circumstances? Even the just must take their chances. King whose majesty amazes, Save thou him who sings thy praises; Fountain, quench my private blazes. Pray remember, sacred Saviour, Mine the playful hand that gave your Death-blow. Pardon such behavior. Seeking me, fatigue assailed thee, Calvary's outlook naught availed thee; Now 'twere cruel if I failed thee. Righteous judge and learnèd brother, Pray thy prejudices smother Ere we meet to try each other. Sighs of guilt my conscience gushes, And my face vermilion flushes; Spare me for my pretty blushes. Thief and harlot, when repenting, Thou forgavest—complimenting Me with sign of like relenting. If too bold is my petition I'll receive with due submission My dismissal—from perdition. When thy sheep thou hast selected From the goats, may I, respected, Stand amongst them undetected. When offenders are indited, And with trial-flames ignited, Elsewhere I'll attend if cited. Ashen-hearted, prone and prayerful, When of death I see the air full, Lest I perish too be careful. On that day of lamentation, When, to enjoy the conflagration, Men come forth, O be not cruel: Spare me, Lord—make them thy fuel.