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 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
Again
Well, I've met her again-at the Mission.She'd told me to see her no more;It was not a command-a petition;I'd granted it once before.Yes, granted it..
© Ambrose Bierce
Adair Welcker, Poet
The Swan of Avon died-the SwanOf Sacramento'll soon be gone;And when his death-song he shall coo,Stand back, or it will kill you too.
© Ambrose Bierce
Ad Moodium
Tut! Moody, do not try to showTo gentlemen and ladiesThat if they have not 'Faith,' they'll goHeadlong to Hades.Faith is belief; and how can IHave..
© Ambrose Bierce
Ad Cattonum
I know not, Mr. Catton, who you are,Nor very clearly why; but you go farTo show that you are many things besideA Chilean Consul with a tempting..
© Ambrose Bierce