Explore "The Valley of the Shadow of Theft" by Ambrose Bierce on Textopian. Read with annotations and highlights.
In fair Yosemite, that den of thieves / Wherein the minions of the moon divide / The travelers' purses, lo! the Devil grieves, / His larger share as leader still denied.
El Capitan, foreseeing that "his" reign / May be disputed too, beclouds his head.
The joyous Bridal Veil is torn in twain / And the crêpe steamer dangles there instead.
The Vernal Fall abates her pleasant speed / And hesitates to take the final plunge, / For rumors reach her that another greed / Awaits her in the Valley of the Sponge.
The Brothers envy the accord of mind / And peace of purpose (by the good deplored / As honor among Commissioners) which bind / That confraternity of crime, the Board.
The Half-Dome bows its riven face to weep, / But not, as formerly, because bereft: / Prophetic dreams afflict him when asleep / Of losing his remaining half by theft.
Ambitious knaves! has not the upper sod / Enough of room for every crime that crawls / But you must loot the Palaces of God / And daub your filthy names upon the walls?