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1842–1914

A PATTER SONG

Ambrose Bierce

There was a cranky Governor — His name it was n't Waterman. For office he was hotter than The love of any lover, nor

Was Boruck's threat of aiding him Effective in dissuading him — This pig-headed, big-headed, singularly self-conceited Governor Nonwaterman. To citrus fairs, et cætera,

He went about philandering, To pride of parish pandering. He knew not any better — ah, His early education had

Not taught the abnegation fad — The wool-witted, bull-witted, fabulously feeble-minded king of gabble-gandering! He conjured up, ad libitum, With postures energetical,

One day ( this is prophetical ) His graces, to exhibit‘ em. He straddled in each attitude, Four parallels of latitude —

The slab-footed, crab-footed, galloping gregarian, of presence unæsthetical! An ancient cow, perceiving that His powers of agility Transcended her ability

( A circumstance for grieving at ) Upon her horns engrafted him And to the welkin wafted him — The high-rolling, sky-rolling, hurtling hallelujah-lad of peerless volatility!

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A PATTER SONG · Ambrose Bierce · Poetry Cove