Industrial Discontent - Poem by Ambrose Bierce
As time rolled on the whole world came to be
A desolation and a darksome curse;
And some one said: 'The changes that you see
In the fair frame of things, from bad to worse,
Are wrought by strikes. The sun withdrew his glimmer
Because the moon assisted with her shimmer.
'Then, when poor Luna, straining very hard,
Doubled her light to serve a darkling world,
He called her 'scab,' and meanly would retard
Her rising: and at last the villain hurled
A heavy beam which knocked her o'er the Lion
Into the nebula of great O'Ryan.
'The planets all had struck some time before,
Demanding what they said were equal rights:
Some pointing out that others had far more
That a fair dividend of satellites.
So all went out-though those the best provided,
If they had dared, would rather have abided.
'The stars struck too-I think it was because
The comets had more liberty than they,
And were not bound by any hampering laws,
While _they_ were fixed; and there are those who say
The comets' tresses nettled poor Altair,
An aged orb that hasn't any hair.
'The earth's the only one that isn't in
The movement-I suppose because she's watched
With horror and disgust how her fair skin
Her pranking parasites have fouled and blotched
With blood and grease in every labor riot,
When seeing any purse or throat to fly at.'
Comments about Industrial Discontent by Ambrose Bierce
Read this poem in other languages
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
Still I Rise
The Road Not Taken
If You Forget Me
Edgar Allan Poe
Stopping By Woods On A Snowy Evening
Do Not Stand At My Grave And Weep
Mary Elizabeth Frye