Explore "Censor Literarum" by Ambrose Bierce on Textopian. Read with annotations and highlights.
So, Parson Stebbins, you've released your chin / To say that here, and here, we press-folk ail. / 'Tis a great thing an editor to skin / And hang his faulty pelt upon a nail / (If over-eared, it has, at least, no tail) / And, for an admonition against sin, / Point out its maculations with a rod, / And act, in short, the gentleman of God.
'Twere needless cruelty to spoil your sport / By comment, critical or merely rude; / But you, too, have, according to report, / Despite your posing as a holy dude, / Imperfect spiritual pulchritude / For so severe a judge. May't please the court, / We shall appeal and take our case at once / Before that higher court, a taller dunce.