Section: «Poems»
Verse (ancient Greek ὁ στίχος — row, structure), a term in versification used in several meanings:
artistic speech organized by division into rhythmically commensurate segments; poetry in the narrow sense; in particular, it implies the properties of versification of a particular tradition ("antique verse", "Akhmatova's verse", etc.);
a line of poetic text organized according to a certain rhythmic pattern ("My uncle of the most honest rules").
An Unmerry Christmas
Christmas, you tell me, comes but once a year.One place it never comes, and that is here.Here, in these pages no good wishes spring,No well-worn..
© Ambrose Bierce
An Undress Uniform
The apparel does _not_ proclaim the manPolonius lied like a partisan,And Salomon still would a hero seemIf (Heaven dispel the impossible dream!)He..
© Ambrose Bierce
An Offer Of Marriage
Once I 'dipt into the future far as human eye could see,'And saw-it was not Sandow, nor John Sullivan, but sheThe Emancipated Woman, who was weeping..
© Ambrose Bierce
An Obituarian
Death-poet Pickering sat at his desk,Wrapped in appropriate gloom;His posture was pensive and picturesque,Like a raven charming a tomb.Enter a party..
© Ambrose Bierce
An Interpretation
Now Lonergan appears upon the boards,And Truth and Error sheathe their lingual swords.No more in wordy warfare to engage,The commentators bow before..
© Ambrose Bierce
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..
© Ambrose Bierce
An Inscription (For A Proposed Monument In Washington)
Erected to 'Boss' Shepherd by the dearGood folk he lived and moved among in peaceGuarded on either hand by the police,With soldiers in his front and..
© Ambrose Bierce
An Inscription
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..
© Ambrose Bierce
An Imposter
Must you, Carnegie, evermore explainYour worth, and all the reasons give againWhy black and red are similarly white,And you and God identically..
© Ambrose Bierce
An Idler
Who told Creed Haymond he was witty?-whoHad nothing better in this world to do?Could no greased pig's appeal to his embraceKindle his ardor for the..
© Ambrose Bierce
An Explanation
'I never yet exactly could determineJust how it is that the judicial ermineIs kept so safely from predacious vermin.''It is not so, my friend: though..
© Ambrose Bierce
An Exile
'Tis the census enumeratorA-singing all forlorn:It's ho! for the tall potater,And ho! for the clustered corn.The whiffle-tree bends in the breeze and..
© Ambrose Bierce
An 'Exhibit'
Goldenson hanged! Well, Heaven forbidThat I should smile above him:Though truth to tell, I never didExactly love him.It can't be wrong, though, to..
© Ambrose Bierce
An Example
They were two deaf mutes, and they loved and theyResolved to be groom and bride;And they listened to nothing that any could say,Nor ever a word..
© Ambrose Bierce
An Epitaph [here Lies Greer Harrison, A Well Cracked Louse]
Here lies Greer Harrison, a well cracked louseSo small a tenant of so big a house!He joyed in fighting with his eyes (his fistPrudently pendent from..
© Ambrose Bierce
An Epitaph [hangman's Hands Laid In This Tomb An]
Hangman's hands laid in this tomb anImp of Satan's getting, whom anAncient legend says that womanNever bore-he owed his birthTo Sin herself. From..
© Ambrose Bierce
An Enemy To Law And Order
A is defrauded of his land by B,Who's driven from the premises by C.D buys the place with coin of plundered E.'That A's an Anarchist!' says F to G.
© Ambrose Bierce
An Average
I ne'er could be entirely fondOf any maiden who's a blonde,And no brunette that e'er I sawHad charms my heart's wholewarmth to draw.Yet sure no girl..
© Ambrose Bierce
An Augury
Upon my desk a single spray,With starry blossoms fraught.I write in many an idle way,Thinking one serious thought.'O flowers, a fine Greek name ye..
© Ambrose Bierce
An Art Critic
Ira P. Rankin, you've a nasal nameI'll sound it through 'the speaking-trump of fame,'And wondering nations, hearing from afarThe brazen twang of its..
© Ambrose Bierce
An Apologue
A traveler observed one dayA loaded fruit-tree by the way.And reining in his horse exclaimed:'The man is greatly to be blamedWho, careless of good..
© Ambrose Bierce
An Anarchist
False to his art and to the high commandGod laid upon him, Markham's rebel handBeats all in vain the harp he touched before:It yields a jingle and it..
© Ambrose Bierce
An Alibi
A famous journalist, who longHad told the great unheaded throngWhate'er they thought, by day or night.Was true as Holy Writ, and right,Was caught..
© Ambrose Bierce
An Actor
Some one ('tis hardly new) has oddly saidThe color of a trumpet's blare is red;And Joseph Emmett thinks the crimson shameOn woman's cheek a..
© Ambrose Bierce
Alone
In contact, lo! the flint and steel,By sharp and flame, the thought revealThat he the metal, she the stone,Had cheris
© Ambrose Bierce