 | The collected works of Ambrose Bierce |  |
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Female, n.
[The Maker, at Creation's birth]
The Maker, at Creation's birth,With living things had stocked the earth.
From elephants to bats and snails,
They all were good, for all were males.
But when the Devil came and saw
He said: “By Thine eternal law
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These all must quickly pass away
And leave untenanted the earth
Unless Thou dost establish birth”—
Then tucked his head beneath his wing
To laugh—he had no sleeve—the thing
With deviltry did so accord,
That he'd suggested to the Lord.
The Master pondered this advice,
Then shook and threw the fateful dice
Wherewith all matters here below
Are ordered, and observed the throw;
Then bent His head in awful state,
Confirming the decree of Fate.
From every part of earth anew
The conscious dust consenting flew,
While rivers from their courses rolled
To make it plastic for the mould.
Enough collected (but no more,
For niggard Nature hoards her store)
He kneaded it to flexile clay,
While Nick unseen threw some away.
And then the various forms He cast,
Gross organs first and finer last;
No one at once evolved, but all
By even touches grew and small
Degrees advanced, till, shade by shade,
To match all living things He'd made
Females, complete in all their parts
Except (His clay gave out) the hearts.
“No matter,” Satan cried; “with speed
I'll fetch the very hearts they need”—
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The number needed, in a sack.
That night earth rang with sounds of strife—
Ten million males had each a wife;
That night sweet Peace her pinions spread
O'er Hell—ten million devils dead!
G. J.
| The collected works of Ambrose Bierce | |