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").
To My Laundress
Saponacea, wert thou not so fairI'd curse thee for thy multitude of sinsFor sending home my clothes all full of pinsA shirt occasionally that's a..
© Ambrose Bierce
To Maude
Not as two errant spheres together grindWith monstrous ruin in the vast of space,Destruction born of that malign embrace,Their hapless peoples all to..
© Ambrose Bierce
To Her
O, Sinner A, to me unknownBe such a conscience as your own!To ease it you to Sinner BConfess the sins of Sinner C.
© Ambrose Bierce
To Either
Back further thanI know, in SanFrancisco dwelt a wealthy man.So rich was heThat none could beWise, good and great in like degree.'Tis true he..
© Ambrose Bierce
To E.S. Salomon
What! Salomon! such words from you,Who call yourself a soldier? Well,The Southern brother where he fellSlept all your base oration through.Alike to..
© Ambrose Bierce
To 'Colonel' Dan. Burns
They say, my lord, that you're a Warwick. Well,The title's an absurd one, I believe:You make no kings, you have no kings to sell,Though really 'twere..
© Ambrose Bierce
To An Insolent Attorney
So, Hall McAllister, you'll not be warnedMy protest slighted, admonition scorned!To save your scoundrel client from a cellAs loth to swallow him as..
© Ambrose Bierce
To An Aspirant
What! you a Senator-you, Mike de Young?Still reeking of the gutter whence you sprung?Sir, if all Senators were such as you,Their hands so crimson and..
© Ambrose Bierce
To A Word-Warrior
Frank Pixley, you, who kiss the handThat strove to cut the country's throat,Cannot forgive the hands that smoteApplauding in a distant..
© Ambrose Bierce
To A Summer Poet
Yes, the Summer girl is flirting on the beach,With a him.And the damboy is a-climbing for the peach,On the limb;Yes, the bullfrog is a-croakingAnd..
© Ambrose Bierce
To A Stray Dog
Well, Towser (I'm thinking your name must be Towser),You're a decentish puppy as puppy dogs go,For you never, I'm sure, could have dined upon..
© Ambrose Bierce
To A Professional Eulogist
Newman, in you two parasites combine:As tapeworm and as graveworm too you shine.When on the virtues of the quick you've dwelt,The pride of residence..
© Ambrose Bierce
To A Dejected Poet
Thy gift, if that it be of God,Thou hast no warrant to appraise,Nor say: 'Here part, O Muse, our ways,The road too stony to be trod.'Not thine to..
© Ambrose Bierce
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..
© Ambrose Bierce
To A Censor
Delay responsible? Why, then; my friend,Impeach Delay and you will make an end.Thrust vile Delay in jail and let it rotFor doing all the things that..
© Ambrose Bierce
Tinker Dick
Good Parson Dickson preached, I'm told,A sermon-ah, 'twas very oldAnd very, very, bald!'Twas all about-I know not whatIt was about, nor what 'twas..
© Ambrose Bierce
Tidings Of Good
Old Nick from his place of last resortCame up and looked the world over.He saw how the grass of the good was shortAnd the wicked lived in clover.And..
© Ambrose Bierce
Three Kinds Of A Rogue
Sharon, ambitious of immortal shame,Fame's dead-wall daubed with his illustrious nameServed in the Senate, for our sins, his time,Each word a folly..
© Ambrose Bierce
Thersites
So, in the Sunday papers _you_, Del Mar,Damn, all great Englishmen in English speech?I am no Englishman, but in my reachA rogue shall never rail..
© Ambrose Bierce
The Yearly Lie
A merry Christmas? Prudent, as I live!You wish me something that you need not give.Merry or sad, what does it signify?To you 't is equal if I laugh..
© Ambrose Bierce
The Woman And The Devil
When Man and Woman had been made,All but the disposition,The Devil to the workshop strayed,And somehow gained admission.The Master rested from his..
© Ambrose Bierce
The Woful Tale Of Mr. Peters
I should like, good friends, to mention the disaster which befellMr. William Perry Peters, of the town of Muscatel,Whose fate is full of meaning, if..
© Ambrose Bierce
The Wise And Good
'O father, I saw at the church as I passedThe populace gathered in numbers so vastThat they couldn't get in; and their voices were low,And they..
© Ambrose Bierce
The Weather Wight
The way was long, the hill was steep,My footing scarcely I could keep.The night enshrouded me in gloom,I heard the ocean's distant boomThe trampling..
© Ambrose Bierce
The 'Viduate Dame'
'Tis the widow of Thomas Blythe,And she goeth upon the spree,And red are cheeks of the bystandersFor her acts are light and free.In a seven-ounce..
© Ambrose Bierce