<div style="background:#fff;border:#bbb dashed 1px;padding:5px"><a href="http://en.citatepedia.ro/comments.php?id=342715" style="color:#000;text-decoration:none"><div style="margin:10px 0"><strong>An Idler</strong></div><div style="margin:10px 0">Who told Creed Haymond he was witty?-who<br>Had nothing better in this world to do?<br>Could no greased pig's appeal to his embrace<br>Kindle his ardor for the friendly chase?<br>Did no dead dog upon a vacant lot,<br>Bloated and bald, or curdled in a clot,<br>Stir his compassion and inspire his arms<br>To hide from human eyes its faded charms?</div><div style="margin:10px 0">If not to works of piety inclined,<br>Then recreation might have claimed his mind.<br>The harmless game that shows the feline greed<br>To cinch the shorts and make the market bleed<br>Is better sport than victimizing Creed;<br>And a far livelier satisfaction comes<br>Of knowing Simon, autocrat of thumbs.<br>If neither worthy work nor play command<br>This gentleman of leisure's heart and hand,<br>Then Mammon might his idle spirit lift<br>By hope of profit to some deed of thrift.<br>Is there no cheese to pare, no flint to skin,<br>No tin to mend, no glass to be put in,<br>No housewife worthy of a morning visit,<br>Her rags and sacks and bottles to solicit?<br>Lo! the blind sow's precarious pursuit<br>Of the aspiring oak's familiar fruit!<br>'Twould more advantage any man to steal<br>This easy victim's undefended meal<br>Than tell Creed Haymond he has wit, and so<br>Expose the state to his narcotic flow!</div><div style="margin:10px 0"><br /></a><br />poem by <a href="http://en.citatepedia.ro/by.php?a=Ambrose+Bierce">Ambrose Bierce</a><div class=q> <img src="https://www.citatepedia.ro/g/32share.png" style="float:left" alt="Share"> <script type="text/javascript" src="//s7.addthis.com/js/300/addthis_widget.js#pubid=citatepedia" async="async"></script><div style="display:inline-block" class="addthis_sharing_toolbox" data-url="http://en.citatepedia.ro/comments.php?id=342715" data-title="An Idler de Ambrose Bierce" data-description="Who told Creed Haymond he was witty?-who Had nothing better in this world to do? Could no greased pig's appeal to his embrace Kindle his ardor for the friendly chase? Did no dead dog upon a vacant lot, Bloated and bald, or curdled in a clot, Stir ..."></div> </div> </div>

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