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1842–1914

TO OSCAR WILDE.

Ambrose Bierce

Because from Folly's lips you got Some babbled mandate to subdue The realm of Common Sense, and you Made promise and considered not —

Because you strike a random blow At what you do not understand, And beckon with a friendly hand To something that you do not know,

I hold no speech of your desert, Nor answer with porrected shield The wooden weapon that you wield, But meet you with a cast of dirt.

Dispute with such a thing as you — Twin show to the two-headed calf? Why, sir, if I repress my laugh, ‘ T is more than half the world can do.

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TO OSCAR WILDE. · Ambrose Bierce · Poetry Cove