Explore "A Retort" by Ambrose Bierce on Textopian. Read with annotations and highlights.
As vicious women think all men are knaves, / And shrew-bound gentlemen discourse of slaves; / As reeling drunkards judge the world unsteady / And idlers swear employers ne'er get ready -- / Thieves that the constable stole all they had, / The mad that all except themselves are mad; / So, in another's clear escutcheon shown, / Barnes rails at stains reflected from his own; / Prates of "docility," nor feels the dark / Ring round his neck -- the Ralston collar mark.
Back, man, to studies interrupted once, / Ere yet the rogue had merged into the dunce.
Back, back to Yale! and, grown with years discreet, / The course a virgin's lust cut short, complete.
Go drink again at the Pierian pool, / And learn -- at least to better play the fool.
No longer scorn the draught, although the font, / Unlike Pactolus, waters not Belmont.