 | The collected works of Ambrose Bierce |  |
THE TABLES TURNED
Over the man the street car ran,
And the driver did never grin.
“O killer of men, pray tell me when
Your laughter means to begin.
And the driver did never grin.
“O killer of men, pray tell me when
Your laughter means to begin.
“Ten years to a day I've observed you slay,
And I never have missed before
Your jubilant peals as your crunching wheels
Were spattered with human gore.
And I never have missed before
Your jubilant peals as your crunching wheels
Were spattered with human gore.
“Why is it, my boy, that you smother your joy,
And why do you make no sign
Of the merry mind that is dancing behind
A solemner face than mine?”
And why do you make no sign
Of the merry mind that is dancing behind
A solemner face than mine?”
263
The driver replied: “I would laugh till I cried
If I had bisected you;
But I'd like to explain, if I can for the pain,
'Tis myself that I've cut in two.”
If I had bisected you;
But I'd like to explain, if I can for the pain,
'Tis myself that I've cut in two.”
| The collected works of Ambrose Bierce | |