 | The collected works of Ambrose Bierce |  |
FROM THE MINUTES
When, with the force of a ram that discharges its ponderous bodyStraight at the rear elevation of the luckless culler of simples,
The foot of Herculean Kilgore—statesman of surname suggestive
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Upon the Congressional door with a monstrous and mighty momentum,
Causing the vain ineffective bar to political freedom
To fly from its hinges, effacing the nasal excrescence of Dingley,
That luckless one, decently veiling the ruin with ready bandanna,
Lamented the loss of his eminence, sadly with sobs as follows:
“Ah, why was I ever elected to the halls of legislation,
So soon to be shown the door with pitiless emphasis? Truly,
I've leaned on a broken Reed, and the same has gone back on me meanly.
Where now is my prominence, erstwhile in council conspicuous, patent?
Alas, I did never before understand what now I see clearly,
To wit, that Democracy tends to level all human distinctions!”
| The collected works of Ambrose Bierce | |