751 Works of Ambrose Bierce
Search Amazon for related books, downloads and more Ambrose Bierce
Dim, grim, and silent as a ghost,The sentry occupied his post,To all the stirrings of the nightAlert of ear and sharp of sight.A sudden something–sight or sound,About, above, or underground,He knew not what, nor where–ensued,Thrilling the sleeping solitude.The soldier cried: “Halt! Who goes there?”The answer came: “Death–in the air.”“Advance, Death–give the countersign,Or perish if you […]
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 work,For this was on a Sunday,The man was snoring like a Turk,Content to wait till Monday. “Too bad!” the Woman cried; “Oh, why,Does slumber not benumb me?A disposition! Oh, I dieTo know […]
‘Twas a weary-looking mortal, and he wandered near the portalOf the melancholy City of the Discontented Dead.He was pale and worn exceeding and his manner was unheeding,As if it could not matter what he did nor what he said. “Sacred stranger”–I addressed him with a reverence befittingThe austere, unintermitting, dread solemnity he wore;‘Tis the custom, […]
What! photograph in colors? ‘Tis a dreamAnd he who dreams it is not overwise,If colors are vibration they but seem,And have no being. But if Tyndall lies,Why, come, then–photograph my lady’s eyes.Nay, friend, you can’t; the splendor of their blue,As on my own beclouded orbs they rest,To naught but vibratory motion’s due,As heart, head, limbs […]
To Parmentier Parisians raiseA statue fine and large:He cooked potatoes fifty ways,Nor ever led a charge. “Palmam qui meruit”–the restYou knew as well as I;And best of all to him that bestOf sayings will apply. Let meaner men the poet’s baysOr warrior’s medal wear;Who cooks potatoes fifty waysShall bear the palm–de terre.
“If life were not worth having,” said the preacher,“‘T would have in suicide one pleasant feature.”“An error,” said the pessimist, “you’re making:What’s not worth having cannot be worth taking.”
I step from the door with a shiver(This fog is uncommonly cold)And ask myself: What did I give her?–The maiden a trifle gone-old,With the head of gray hair that was gold. Ah, well, I suppose ’twas a dollar,And doubtless the change is correct,Though it’s odd that it seems so much smallerThan what I’d a right […]
With saintly grace and reverent tread,She walked among the graves with me;Her every foot-fall seemed to beA benediction on the dead. The guardian spirit of the placeShe seemed, and I some ghost forlornSurprised in the untimely mornShe made with her resplendent face. Moved by some waywardness of will,Three paces from the path apartShe stepped and […]
“I saw your charms in another’s arms,”Said a Grecian swain with his blood a-boil;“And he kissed you fair as he held you there,A willing bird in a serpent’s coil!” The maid looked up from the cinctured cupWherein she was crushing the berries red,Pain and surprise in her honest eyes–“It was only one o’ those gods,” […]
‘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 the fineLarge eggs are a-ripening on the vine. “Some there must be to till the soilAnd the widow’s weeds keep down.I wasn’t cut out for rural toilBut they won’t let me live in […]
SHE: I’m told that men have sometimes gotToo confidential, andHave said to one another whatThey–well, you understand.I hope I don’t offend you, sweet,But are you sure that you’re discreet? HE: ‘Tis true, sometimes my friends in wineTheir conquests do recall,But none can truly say that mineAre known to him at all.I never, never talk you […]
Cried Age to Youth: “Abate your speed!–The distance hither’s brief indeed.”But Youth pressed on without delay–The shout had reached but half the way.
I saw–’twas in a dream, the other night–A man whose hair with age was thin and white:One hundred years had bettered by his birth,And still his step was firm, his eye was bright. Before him and about him pressed a crowd.Each head in reverence was bared and bowed,And Jews and Gentiles in a hundred tonguesExtolled […]
“What is that, mother?”“The funny man, child.His hands are black, but his heart is mild.” “May I touch him, mother?”“‘T were foolishly done:He is slightly touched already, my son.” “O, why does he wear such a ghastly grin?”“That’s the outward sign of a joke within.” “Will he crack it, mother?”“Not so, my saint;‘T is meant […]
Says Anderson, Theosophist:“Among the many that existIn modern halls,Some lived in ancient Egypt’s climeAnd in their childhood saw the primeOf Karnak’s walls.” Ah, Anderson, if that is true‘T is my conviction, sir, that youAre one of thoseThat once resided by the Nile,Peer to the sacred Crocodile,Heir to his woes. My judgment is, the holy CatMews […]
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 call the labor hardAnd the reward inadequate.Who haggles o’er his hire with FateIs better bargainer than bard. What! count the effort labor lostWhen thy good angel […]
Over the man the street car ran,And the driver did never grin.“O killer of men, pray tell me whenYour laughter means to begin. “Ten years to a day I’ve observed you slay,And I never have missed beforeYour jubilant peals as your crunching wheelsWere spattered with human gore. “Why is it, my boy, that you smother […]
“O warrior with the burnished arms–With bullion cord and tassel–Pray tell me of the lurid charmsOf service and the fierce alarms:The storming of the castle,The charge across the smoking field,The rifles’ busy rattle–What thoughts inspire the men who wieldThe blade–their gallant souls how steeledAnd fortified in battle.” “Nay, man of peace, seek not to knowWar’s […]
Despots effete upon tottering thronesUnsteadily poised upon dead men’s bones,Walk up! walk up! the circus is free,And this wonderful spectacle you shall see:Millions of voters who mostly are fools–Demagogues’ dupes and candidates’ tools,Armies of uniformed mountebanks,And braying disciples of brainless cranks.Many a week they’ve bellowed like beeves,Bitterly blackguarding, lying like thieves,Libeling freely the quick and […]
O bear me, gods, to some enchanted isleWhere woman’s tears can antidote her smile.