 | The collected works of Ambrose Bierce |  |
AFTER TENNYSON
You ask me why, though ill at ease,
Within this region I subsist,
Where honor's dead, and law is hissed,
And all men pillage as they please.
Within this region I subsist,
Where honor's dead, and law is hissed,
And all men pillage as they please.
It is the land where freemen kill
In warm debate their party foes;
The land where judges come to blows
And speak the things that make us ill;
In warm debate their party foes;
The land where judges come to blows
And speak the things that make us ill;
A land of base expedient;
A land where gold can justice drown;
Where Freedom's chains are handed down
From President to President;
A land where gold can justice drown;
Where Freedom's chains are handed down
From President to President;
Where factions wrangle for the bread
Of honest men; where, fearing naught,
Accurst monopolies have caught
The people in the nets they spread;
Of honest men; where, fearing naught,
106
The people in the nets they spread;
Where branded convicts execute
The laws that in a better time
They broke, and every kind of crime
Stalks unashamed and resolute.
The laws that in a better time
They broke, and every kind of crime
Stalks unashamed and resolute.
Should honor e'er possess the land,
And patriots control the State,
And Justice rise, divine with hate,
To choke the politician band,
And patriots control the State,
And Justice rise, divine with hate,
To choke the politician band,
O waft me from the harbor forth,
Wild winds. I'll see Alaska's sky.
Here 'twill have grown too warm, and I
Will run for office in the North.
Wild winds. I'll see Alaska's sky.
Here 'twill have grown too warm, and I
Will run for office in the North.
| The collected works of Ambrose Bierce | |