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Delphi Complete Works of Ambrose Bierce (Illustrated)

Page 167

by Bierce, Ambrose

The latest mounts his predecessor’s trunk,

  And sinks his brother ere himself is sunk.

  So die ingloriously Fame’s élite,

  But dams of dunces keep the line complete.

  IN DEFENSE.

  You may say, if you please, Johnny Bull, that our girls

  Are crazy to marry your dukes and your earls;

  But I’ve heard that the maids of your own little isle

  Greet bachelor lords with a favoring smile.

  Nay, titles, ‘tis said in defense of our fair,

  Are popular here because popular there;

  And for them our ladies persistently go

  Because ‘tis exceedingly English, you know.

  Whatever the motive, you’ll have to confess

  The effort’s attended with easy success;

  And — pardon the freedom—’tis thought, over here,

  ’Tis mortification you mask with a sneer.

  It’s all very well, sir, your scorn to parade

  Of the high nasal twang of the Yankee maid,

  But, ah, to my lord when he dares to propose

  No sound is so sweet as that “Yes” from the nose.

  Our ladies, we grant, walk alone in the street

  (Observe, by-the-by, on what delicate feet!)

  ’Tis a habit they got here at home, where they say

  The men from politeness go seldom astray.

  Ah, well, if the dukes and the earls and that lot

  Can stand it (God succor them if they cannot!)

  Your commoners ought to assent, I am sure,

  And what they ‘re not called on to suffer, endure.

  “‘Tis nothing but money?” “Your nobles are bought?”

  As to that, I submit, it is commonly thought

  That England’s a country not specially free

  Of Croesi and (if you’ll allow it) Croesae.

  You’ve many a widow and many a girl

  With money to purchase a duke or an earl.

  ’Tis a very remarkable thing, you’ll agree,

  When goods import buyers from over the sea.

  Alas for the woman of Albion’s isle!

  She may simper; as well as she can she may smile;

  She may wear pantalettes and an air of repose —

  But my lord of the future will talk through his nose.

  AN INVOCATION.

  [Read at the Celebration of Independence Day in San

  Francisco, in 1888.]

  Goddess of Liberty! O thou

  Whose tearless eyes behold the chain,

  And look unmoved upon the slain,

  Eternal peace upon thy brow, —

  Before thy shrine the races press,

  Thy perfect favor to implore —

  The proudest tyrant asks no more,

  The ironed anarchist no less.

  Thine altar-coals that touch the lips

  Of prophets kindle, too, the brand

  By Discord flung with wanton hand

  Among the houses and the ships.

  Upon thy tranquil front the star

  Burns bleak and passionless and white,

  Its cold inclemency of light

  More dreadful than the shadows are.

  Thy name we do not here invoke

  Our civic rites to sanctify:

  Enthroned in thy remoter sky,

  Thou heedest not our broken yoke.

  Thou carest not for such as we:

  Our millions die to serve the still

  And secret purpose of thy will.

  They perish — what is that to thee?

  The light that fills the patriot’s tomb

  Is not of thee. The shining crown

  Compassionately offered down

  To those who falter in the gloom,

  And fall, and call upon thy name,

  And die desiring—’tis the sign

  Of a diviner love than thine,

  Rewarding with a richer fame.

  To him alone let freemen cry

  Who hears alike the victor’s shout,

  The song of faith, the moan of doubt,

  And bends him from his nearer sky.

  God of my country and my race!

  So greater than the gods of old —

  So fairer than the prophets told

  Who dimly saw and feared thy face, —

  Who didst but half reveal thy will

  And gracious ends to their desire,

  Behind the dawn’s advancing fire

  Thy tender day-beam veiling still, —

  To whom the unceasing suns belong,

  And cause is one with consequence, —

  To whose divine, inclusive sense

  The moan is blended with the song, —

  Whose laws, imperfect and unjust,

  Thy just and perfect purpose serve:

  The needle, howsoe’er it swerve,

  Still warranting the sailor’s trust, —

  God, lift thy hand and make us free

  To crown the work thou hast designed.

  O, strike away the chains that bind

  Our souls to one idolatry!

  The liberty thy love hath given

  We thank thee for. We thank thee for

  Our great dead fathers’ holy war

  Wherein our manacles were riven.

  We thank thee for the stronger stroke

  Ourselves delivered and incurred

  When — thine incitement half unheard —

  The chains we riveted we broke.

  We thank thee that beyond the sea

  The people, growing ever wise,

  Turn to the west their serious eyes

  And dumbly strive to be as we.

  As when the sun’s returning flame

  Upon the Nileside statue shone,

  And struck from the enchanted stone

  The music of a mighty fame,

  Let Man salute the rising day

  Of Liberty, but not adore.

  ’Tis Opportunity — no more —

  A useful, not a sacred, ray.

  It bringeth good, it bringeth ill,

  As he possessing shall elect.

  He maketh it of none effect

  Who walketh not within thy will.

  Give thou or more or less, as we

  Shall serve the right or serve the wrong.

  Confirm our freedom but so long

  As we are worthy to be free.

  But when (O, distant be the time!)

  Majorities in passion draw

  Insurgent swords to murder Law,

  And all the land is red with crime;

  Or — nearer menace! — when the band

  Of feeble spirits cringe and plead

  To the gigantic strength of Greed,

  And fawn upon his iron hand; —

  Nay, when the steps to state are worn

  In hollows by the feet of thieves,

  And Mammon sits among the sheaves

  And chuckles while the reapers mourn;

  Then stay thy miracle! — replace

  The broken throne, repair the chain,

  Restore the interrupted reign

  And veil again thy patient face.

  Lo! here upon the world’s extreme

  We stand with lifted arms and dare

  By thine eternal name to swear

  Our country, which so fair we deem —

  Upon whose hills, a bannered throng,

  The spirits of the sun display

  Their flashing lances day by day

  And hear the sea’s pacific song —

  Shall be so ruled in right and grace

  That men shall say: “O, drive afield

  The lawless eagle from the shield,

  And call an angel to the place!”

  RELIGION.

  Hassan Bedreddin, clad in rags, ill-shod,

  Sought the great temple of the living God.

  The worshippers arose and drove him forth,

  And one in power beat
him with a rod.

  “Allah,” he cried, “thou seest what I got;

  Thy servants bar me from the sacred spot.”

  ”Be comforted,” the Holy One replied;

  ”It is the only place where I am not.”

  A MORNING FANCY.

  I drifted (or I seemed to) in a boat

  Upon the surface of a shoreless sea

  Whereon no ship nor anything did float,

  Save only the frail bark supporting me;

  And that — it was so shadowy — seemed to be

  Almost from out the very vapors wrought

  Of the great ocean underneath its keel;

  And all that blue profound appeared as naught

  But thicker sky, translucent to reveal,

  Miles down, whatever through its spaces glided,

  Or at the bottom traveled or abided.

  Great cities there I saw — of rich and poor,

  The palace and the hovel; mountains, vales,

  Forest and field, the desert and the moor,

  Tombs of the good and wise who’d lived in jails,

  And seas of denser fluid, white with sails

  Pushed at by currents moving here and there

  And sensible to sight above the flat

  Of that opaquer deep. Ah, strange and fair

  The nether world that I was gazing at

  With beating heart from that exalted level,

  And — lest I founder — trembling like the devil!

  The cities all were populous: men swarmed

  In public places — chattered, laughed and wept;

  And savages their shining bodies warmed

  At fires in primal woods. The wild beast leapt

  Upon its prey and slew it as it slept.

  Armies went forth to battle on the plain

  So far, far down in that unfathomed deep

  The living seemed as silent as the slain,

  Nor even the widows could be heard to weep.

  One might have thought their shaking was but laughter;

  And, truly, most were married shortly after.

  Above the wreckage of that silent fray

  Strange fishes swam in circles, round and round —

  Black, double-finned; and once a little way

  A bubble rose and burst without a sound

  And a man tumbled out upon the ground.

  Lord! ‘twas an eerie thing to drift apace

  On that pellucid sea, beneath black skies

  And o’er the heads of an undrowning race;

  And when I woke I said — to her surprise

  Who came with chocolate, for me to drink it:

  ”The atmosphere is deeper than you think it.”

  VISIONS OF SIN.

  KRASLAJORSK, SIBERIA, March 29.

  “My eyes are better, and I shall travel slowly toward home.”

  DANENHOWER.

  From the regions of the Night,

  Coming with recovered sight —

  From the spell of darkness free,

  What will Danenhower see?

  He will see when he arrives,

  Doctors taking human lives.

  He will see a learned judge

  Whose decision will not budge

  Till both litigants are fleeced

  And his palm is duly greased.

  Lawyers he will see who fight

  Day by day and night by night;

  Never both upon a side,

  Though their fees they still divide.

  Preachers he will see who teach

  That it is divine to preach —

  That they fan a sacred fire

  And are worthy of their hire.

  He will see a trusted wife

  (Pride of some good husband’s life)

  Enter at a certain door

  And — but he will see no more.

  He will see Good Templars reel —

  See a prosecutor steal,

  And a father beat his child.

  He’ll perhaps see Oscar Wilde.

  From the regions of the Night

  Coming with recovered sight —

  From the bliss of blindness free,

  That’s what Danenhower’ll see.

  1882.

  THE TOWN OF DAE.

  Swains and maidens, young and old,

  You to me this tale have told.

  Where the squalid town of Dae

  Irks the comfortable sea,

  Spreading webs to gather fish,

  As for wealth we set a wish,

  Dwelt a king by right divine,

  Sprung from Adam’s royal line,

  Town of Dae by the sea,

  Divers kinds of kings there be.

  Name nor fame had Picklepip:

  Ne’er a soldier nor a ship

  Bore his banners in the sun;

  Naught knew he of kingly sport,

  And he held his royal court

  Under an inverted tun.

  Love and roses, ages through,

  Bloom where cot and trellis stand;

  Never yet these blossoms grew —

  Never yet was room for two —

  In a cask upon the strand.

  So it happened, as it ought,

  That his simple schemes he wrought

  Through the lagging summer’s day

  In a solitary way.

  So it happened, as was best,

  That he took his nightly rest

  With no dreadful incubus

  This way eyed and that way tressed,

  Featured thus, and thus, and thus,

  Lying lead-like on a breast

  By cares of State enough oppressed.

  Yet in dreams his fancies rude

  Claimed a lordly latitude.

  Town of Dae by the sea,

  Dreamers mate above their state

  And waken back to their degree.

  Once to cask himself away

  He prepared at close of day.

  As he tugged with swelling throat

  At a most unkingly coat —

  Not to get it off, but on,

  For the serving sun was gone —

  Passed a silk-appareled sprite

  Toward her castle on the height,

  Seized and set the garment right.

  Turned the startled Picklepip —

  Splendid crimson cheek and lip!

  Turned again to sneak away,

  But she bade the villain stay,

  Bade him thank her, which he did

  With a speech that slipped and slid,

  Sprawled and stumbled in its gait

  As a dancer tries to skate.

  Town of Dae by the sea,

  In the face of silk and lace

  Rags too bold should never be.

  Lady Minnow cocked her head:

  ”Mister Picklepip,” she said,

  ”Do you ever think to wed?”

  Town of Dae by the sea,

  No fair lady ever made a

  Wicked speech like that to me!

  Wretched little Picklepip

  Said he hadn’t any ship,

  Any flocks at his command,

  Nor to feed them any land;

  Said he never in his life

  Owned a mine to keep a wife.

  But the guilty stammer so

  That his meaning wouldn’t flow;

  So he thought his aim to reach

  By some figurative speech:

  Said his Fate had been unkind

  Had pursued him from behind

  (How the mischief could it else?)

  Came upon him unaware,

  Caught him by the collar — there

  Gushed the little lady’s glee

  Like a gush of golden bells:

  ”Picklepip, why, that is me!”

  Town of Dae by the sea,

  Grammar’s for great scholars — she

  Loved the summer and the lea.

  Stupid little Picklepip

  Allowed the subtle hin
t to slip —

  Maundered on about the ship

  That he did not chance to own;

  Told this grievance o’er and o’er,

  Knowing that she knew before;

  Told her how he dwelt alone.

  Lady Minnow, for reply,

  Cut him off with “So do I!”

  But she reddened at the fib;

  Servitors had she, ad lib.

  Town of Dae by the sea,

  In her youth who speaks no truth

  Ne’er shall young and honest be.

  Witless little Picklepip

  Manned again his mental ship

  And veered her with a sudden shift.

  Painted to the lady’s thought

  How he wrestled and he wrought

  Stoutly with the swimming drift

  By the kindly river brought

  From the mountain to the sea,

  Fuel for the town of Dae.

  Tedious tale for lady’s ear:

  From her castle on the height,

  She had watched her water-knight

  Through the seasons of a year,

  Challenge more than met his view

  And conquer better than he knew.

  Now she shook her pretty pate

  And stamped her foot—’t was growing late:

  ”Mister Picklepip, when I

  Drifting seaward pass you by;

  When the waves my forehead kiss

  And my tresses float above —

  Dead and drowned for lack of love —

  You’ll be sorry, sir, for this!”

  And the silly creature cried —

  Feared, perchance, the rising tide.

  Town of Dae by the sea,

  Madam Adam, when she had ‘em,

  May have been as bad as she.

  Fiat lux! Love’s lumination

  Fell in floods of revelation!

  Blinded brain by world aglare,

  Sense of pulses in the air,

  Sense of swooning and the beating

 

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