Explore "Ignis Fatuus" by Ambrose Bierce on Textopian. Read with annotations and highlights.
Weep, weep, each loyal partisan, / For Buckley, king of hearts; / A most accomplished man; a man / Of parts -- of foreign parts.
Long years he ruled with gentle sway, / Nor grew his glory dim; / And he would be with us to-day / If we were but with him.
Men wondered at his going off / In such a sudden way; / 'Twas thought, as he had come to scoff / He would remain to prey.
Since he is gone we're all agreed / That he is what men call / A crook: his very steps, indeed, / Are bent -- to Montreal.
So let our tears unhindered flow, / Our sighs and groans have way: / It matters not how much we Oh! -- / The devil is to pay.