The Poetry Of Ambrose Bierce - Volume 3
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Ambrose Gwinnett Bierce had a diverse literary, military and journalistic career, during which his sardonic view of human nature ensured he was both frequently critical and frequently criticised. As a writer, his work included short stories, fables, editorials and his journalism, which was often controversial owing to his vehemence and acerbic style. He was born on June 24th 1842 at Horse Cave Creek in Meigs Country, Ohio. His parents were poor and very religious but instilled in the young Bierce an abiding love of language and literature. A year at the Kentucky Military Institute prepared him for the Civil War and a source of much of his acclaimed writing. Eventually he moved west to San Francisco where he married and began his literary career in earnest. A few years in England saw his work begin to publish in greater quantities. By 1891 although his marriage had fallen apart he had published ‘An Occurrence at Owl Creek’ his classic short story. To this he quickly added volumes of poetry and further volumes of stories and essays as well as a thriving career with the Hearst Organisation. In all his reputation was set as one of America’s foremost literary creators. At the age of 71, in 1913 Bierce departed from Washington, D.C., for a tour of the battlefields upon which he had fought during the civil war. He passed through Louisiana and Texas by December and was crossed into Mexico which was in the throes of revolution. He joined Pancho Villa’s army as an observer. It was in Chihuahua where he wrote his last known communication dated 26th December 1913, closing with the words “as to me, I leave here tomorrow for an unknown destination” and then vanished without trace in what would become one of the most famous unexplained disappearances in American history.
Ambrose Bierce
Ambrose Bierce was an American writer, critic and war veteran. Bierce fought for the Union Army during the American Civil War, eventually rising to the rank of brevet major before resigning from the Army following an 1866 expedition across the Great Plains. Bierce’s harrowing experiences during the Civil War, particularly those at the Battle of Shiloh, shaped a writing career that included editorials, novels, short stories and poetry. Among his most famous works are “An Occurrence at Owl Creek Bridge,” “The Boarded Window,” “Chickamauga,” and What I Saw of Shiloh. While on a tour of Civil-War battlefields in 1913, Bierce is believed to have joined Pancho Villa’s army before disappearing in the chaos of the Mexican Revolution.
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The Poetry Of Ambrose Bierce - Volume 3 - Ambrose Bierce
The Poetry of Ambrose Bierce - Volume 3
Ambrose Gwinnett Bierce had a diverse literary, military and journalistic career, during which his sardonic view of human nature ensured he was both frequently critical and frequently criticised. As a writer, his work included short stories, fables, editorials and his journalism, which was often controversial owing to his vehemence and acerbic style.
He was born on June 24th 1842 at Horse Cave Creek in Meigs Country, Ohio. His parents were poor and very religious but instilled in the young Bierce an abiding love of language and literature.
A year at the Kentucky Military Institute prepared him for the Civil War and a source of much of his acclaimed writing. Eventually he moved west to San Francisco where he married and began his literary career in earnest. A few years in England saw his work begin to publish in greater quantities
By 1891 although his marriage had fallen apart he had published ‘An Occurrence at Owl Creek’ his classic short story. To this he quickly added volumes of poetry and further volumes of stories and essays as well as a thriving career with the Hearst Organisation. In all his reputation was set as one of America’s foremost literary creators.
At the age of 71, in 1913 Bierce departed from Washington, D.C., for a tour of the battlefields upon which he had fought during the civil war. He passed through Louisiana and Texas by December and was crossed into Mexico which was in the throes of revolution. He joined Pancho Villa’s army as an observer. It was in Chihuahua where he wrote his last known communication dated 26th December 1913, closing with the words as to me, I leave here tomorrow for an unknown destination
and then vanished without trace in what would become one of the most famous unexplained disappearances in American history.
Index of Contents
The Man Born Blind
The Militiaman
The National Guardsman
The Naval Constructor
The New Decalogue
The New Enoch
The New 'Ulalume'
The Night Of Election
The Oakland Dog
The Oleomargarine Man
The Opposing Sex
The Passing Of 'Boss' Shepherd
The Passing Show
The Perverted Village After Goldsmith
The Piute
The Politician
The Psoriad
The Pun
The Retrospective Bird
The Rich Testator
The Royal Jester
The Saint And The Monk
The Setting Sachem
The Shafter Shafted
The Spirit Of A Sponge
The Statesmen
The Subdued Editor
The Sunset Gun
The Tables Turned
The Town Of Dae
The Transmigrations Of A Soul
The Unfallen Brave
The Unpardonable Sin
The Valley Of Dry Bones
The Valley Of The Shadow Of Theft
The Van Nessiad
The Veteran
The 'Viduate Dame'
The Weather Wight
The Wise And Good
The Woful Tale Of Mr. Peters
The Woman And The Devil
The Yearly Lie
Thersites
Three Kinds Of A Rogue
Tidings Of Good
Tinker Dick
To A Censor
To A Critic Of Tennyson
To A Dejected Poet
To A Professional Eulogist
To A Stray Dog
To A Summer Poet
To A Word-Warrior
To An Aspirant
To An Insolent Attorney
To 'Colonel' Dan. Burns
To E.S. Salomon
To Either
To Her
To Maude
To My Laundress
To My Liars
To Nanine
To One Across The Way
To One Detested
To Oscar Wilde
To The Bartholdi Statue
To The Fool-Killer
To The Happy Hunting Grounds
To-Day
Twin Unworthies
Two Methods
Two Rogues
Two Shows
Two Statesmen
Unarmed
Uncoloneled
Unexpounded
Vanished At Cock-Crow
Vice Versa
Visions Of Sin
Weather
With a Book
With Mine Own Petard
Woman In Politics
Y'e Foe To Cathaye
Ye Idyll Of Ye Hippopopotamus
Quintessence.
Yorick
Aspirants Three
Metempsychosis
'Peaceable Expulsion'
Slander
Slickens
Thanksgiving
The Birth Of The Rail
The Brothers
The Mummery
The Scurril Press
Ambrose Bierce - A Short Biography
The Man Born Blind
A man born blind received his sight
By a painful operation;
And these are things he saw in the light
Of an infant observation.
He saw a merchant, good and wise.
And greatly, too, respected,
Who looked, to those imperfect eyes,
Like a swindler undetected.
He saw a patriot address
A noisy public meeting.
And said: 'Why, that's a calf. I guess.
That for the teat is bleating.'
A doctor stood beside a bed
And shook his summit sadly.
'O see that foul assassin!' said
The man who saw so badly.
He saw a lawyer pleading for
A thief whom they'd been jailing,
And said: 'That's an accomplice, or
My sight again is failing.'
Upon the Bench a Justice sat,
With nothing to restrain him;
''Tis strange,' said the observer, 'that
They ventured to unchain him.'
With theologic works supplied,
He saw a solemn preacher;
'A burglar with his kit,' he cried,
'To rob a fellow creature.'
A bluff old farmer next he saw
Sell produce in a village,
And said: 'What, what! is there no law
To punish men for pillage?'
A dame, tall, fair and stately, passed,
Who many charms united;
He thanked his stars his lot was cast
Where sepulchers were whited.
He saw a soldier stiff and stern,
'Full of strange oaths' and toddy;
But was unable to discern
A wound upon his body.
Ten square leagues of rolling ground
To one great man belonging,
Looked like one little grassy mound
With worms beneath it thronging.
A palace's well-carven stones,
Where Dives dwelt contented,
Seemed built throughout of human bones
With human blood cemented.
He watched the yellow shining thread
A silk-worm was a-spinning;
'That creature's coining gold.' he said,
'To pay some girl for sinning.'
His eyes were so untrained and dim
All politics, religions,
Arts, sciences, appeared to him
But modes of plucking pigeons.
And so he drew his final breath,
And thought he saw with sorrow
Some persons weeping for his death
Who'd be all smiles to-morrow.
The Militiaman
'O warrior with the burnished arms
With bullion cord and tassel
Pray tell me of the lurid charms
Of 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 wield
The blade - their gallant souls how steeled
And fortified in battle.'
'Nay, man of peace, seek not to know
War's baleful fascination
The soldier's hunger for the foe,
His dread of safety, joy to go
To court annihilation.
Though calling bugles blow not now,
Nor drums begin to beat yet,
One fear unmans me, I'll allow,
And poisons all my pleasure: How
If I should get my feet wet!'
The National Guardsman
I'm a gorgeous golden hero
And my trade is taking life.
Hear the twittle-twittle-tweero
Of my sibillating fife
And the rub-a-dub-a-dum
Of my big bass drum!
I'm an escort strong and bold,
The Grand Army to protect.
My countenance is cold
And my attitude erect.
I'm a Californian Guard
And my banner flies aloft,
But the stones are O, so hard!
And my feet are O, so soft!
The Naval Constructor
He looked upon the ships as they
All idly lay at anchor,
Their sides with gorgeous workmen gay
The riveter and planker
Republicans and Democrats,
Statesmen and politicians.
He saw the swarm of prudent rats
Swimming for land positions.
He marked each 'belted cruiser' fine,
Her poddy life-belts floating
In tether where the hungry brine
Impinged upon her coating.
He noted with a proud regard,
As any of his class would,
The poplar mast and poplar yard
Above the hull of bass-wood.
He saw the Eastlake frigate tall,
With quaintly carven gable,
Hip-roof and dormer-window-all
With ivy formidable.
In short, he saw our country's hope
In best of all conditions
Equipped, to the last spar and rope,
By working politicians.
He boarded then the noblest ship
And from the harbor glided.
'Adieu, adieu!' fell from his lip.
Verdict: 'He suicided.'
The New Decalogue
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 pain.
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.
The New Enoch
Enoch Arden was an able
Seaman; hear of his mishap
Not in wild mendacious fable,
As 't was told by t' other chap;
For I hold it is a youthful
Indiscretion to tell lies,
And the writer that is truthful
Has the reader that is wise.
Enoch Arden, able seaman,
On an isle was cast away,
And before he was a freeman
Time had touched him up with gray.
Long he searched the fair horizon,
Seated on a mountain top;
Vessel ne'er he set his eyes on
That would undertake to stop.
Seeing that his sight was growing
Dim and dimmer, day by day,
Enoch said he must be going.
So he rose and went away
Went away and so continued
Till he lost his lonely isle:
Mr. Arden was so sinewed
He could row for many a mile.
Compass he had not, nor sextant,
To direct him o'er the sea:
Ere 't was known that he was extant,
At his widow's home was he.
When he saw the hills and hollows
And the streets he could but know,
He gave utterance as follows
To the sentiments below:
'Blast my tarry toplights! (shiver,
Too, my timbers!) but, I say,
W'at a larruk to diskiver,
I have lost me blessid way!
'W'at, alas, would be my bloomin'
Fate if Philip now I see,
Which I lammed? or my old 'oman,
Which has frequent basted me?'
Scenes of childhood swam around him
At the thought of such a lot:
In a swoon his Annie found him
And conveyed him to her cot.
'T was the very house, the garden,
Where their honeymoon was passed:
'T was the place where Mrs. Arden
Would have mourned