 | The collected works of Ambrose Bierce |  |
[Lo! the poor humorist, whose tortured mind]
Lo! the poor humorist, whose tortured mindSee jokes in crowds, though still to gloom inclined—
Whose simple appetite, untaught to stray,
His brains, renewed by night, consumes by day.
He thinks, admitted to an equal sty,
A graceful hog would bear his company.
Alexander Poke.
| The collected works of Ambrose Bierce | |