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<div style="background:#fff;border:#bbb dashed 1px;padding:5px"><a href="http://en.citatepedia.ro/comments.php?id=342942" style="color:#000;text-decoration:none"><div style="margin:10px 0"><strong>The Fountain Refilled</strong></div><div style="margin:10px 0">Of Hans Pietro Shanahan<br>(Who was a most ingenious man)<br>The Muse of History records<br>That he'd get drunk as twenty lords.</div><div style="margin:10px 0">He'd get so truly drunk that men<br>Stood by to marvel at him when<br>His slow advance along the street<br>Was but a vain cycloidal feat.</div><div style="margin:10px 0">And when 'twas fated that he fall<br>With a wide geographical sprawl,<br>They signified assent by sounds<br>Heard (faintly) at its utmost bounds.</div><div style="margin:10px 0">And yet this Mr. Shanahan<br>(Who was a most ingenious man)<br>Cast not on wine his thirsty eyes<br>When it was red or otherwise.</div><div style="margin:10px 0">All malt, or spirituous, tope<br>He loathed as cats dissent from soap;<br>And cider, if it touched his lip,<br>Evoked a groan at every sip.</div><div style="margin:10px 0">But still, as heretofore explained,<br>He not infrequently was grained.<br>(I'm not of those who call it 'corned.'<br>Coarse speech I've always duly scorned.)</div><div style="margin:10px 0">Though truth to say, and that's but right,<br>Strong drink (it hath an adder's bite!)<br>Was what had put him in the mud,<br>The only kind he used was blood!</div><div style="margin:10px 0">Alas, that an immortal soul<br>Addicted to the flowing bowl,<br>The emptied flagon should again<br>Replenish from a neighbor's vein.</div><div style="margin:10px 0">But, Mr. Shanahan was so<br>Constructed, and his taste that low.<br>Nor more deplorable was he<br>In kind of thirst than in degree;</div><div style="margin:10px 0">For sometimes fifty souls would pay<br>The debt of nature in a day<br>To free him from the shame and pain<br>Of dread Sobriety's misreign.</div><div style="margin:10px 0">His native land, proud of its sense<br>Of his unique inabstinence,<br>Abated something of its pride<br>At thought of his unfilled inside.</div><div style="margin:10px 0">And some the boldness had to say<br>'Twere well if he were called away<br>To slake his thirst forevermore<br>In oceans of celestial gore.</div><div style="margin:10px 0">But Hans Pietro Shanahan<br>(Who was a most ingenious man)<br>Knew that his thirst was mortal; so<br>Remained unsainted here below</div><div style="margin:10px 0">Unsainted and unsaintly, for<br>He neither went to glory nor<br>To abdicate his power deigned<br>Where, under Providence, he reigned,</div><div style="margin:10px 0">But kept his Boss's power accurst<br>To serve his wild uncommon thirst.<br>Which now had grown so truly great<br>It was a drain upon the State.</div><div style="margin:10px 0">Soon, soon there came a time, alas!<br>When he turned down an empty glass<br>All practicable means were vain<br>His special wassail to obtain.</div><div style="margin:10px 0">In vain poor Decimation tried<br>To furnish forth the needful tide;<br>And Civil War as vainly shed<br>Her niggard offering of red.</div><div style="margin:10px 0">Poor Shanahan! his thirst increased<br>Until he wished himself deceased,<br>Invoked the firearm and the knife,<br>But could not die to save his life!</div><div style="margin:10px 0">He was so dry his own veins made<br>No answer to the seeking blade;<br>So parched that when he would have passed<br>Away he could not breathe his last.</div><div style="margin:10px 0">'Twas then, when almost in despair,<br>(Unlaced his shoon, unkempt his hair)<br>He saw as in a dream a way<br>To wet afresh his mortal clay.</div><div style="margin:10px 0">Yes, Hans Pietro Shanahan<br>(Who was a most ingenious man)<br>Saw freedom, and with joy and pride<br>'Thalassa! (or Thalatta!)' cried.</div><div style="margin:10px 0">Straight to the Aldermen went he,<br>With many a 'pull' and many a fee,<br>And many a most corrupt 'combine'<br>(The Press for twenty cents a line</div><div style="margin:10px 0">Held out and fought him-O, God, bless<br>Forevermore the holy Press!)<br>Till he had franchises complete<br>For trolley lines on every street!</div><div style="margin:10px 0">The cars were builded and, they say,<br>Were run on rails laid every way<br>Rhomboidal roads, and circular,<br>And oval-everywhere a car</div><div style="margin:10px 0">Square, dodecagonal (in great<br>Esteem the shape called Figure 8)<br>And many other kinds of shapes<br>As various as tails of apes.</div><div style="margin:10px 0">No other group of men's abodes<br>E'er had such odd electric roads,<br>That winding in and winding out,<br>Began and ended all about.</div><div style="margin:10px 0">No city had, unless in Mars,<br>That city's wealth of trolley cars.<br>They ran by day, they flew by night,<br>And O, the sorry, sorry sight!</div><div style="margin:10px 0">And Hans Pietro Shanahan<br>(Who was a most ingenious man)<br>Incessantly, the Muse records,<br>Lay drunk as twenty thousand lords!</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>
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<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=342942" data-title="The Fountain Refilled de Ambrose Bierce" data-description="Of Hans Pietro Shanahan
(Who was a most ingenious man)
The Muse of History records
That he'd get drunk as twenty lords.

He'd get so truly drunk that men
Stood by to marvel at him when
His slow advance along the street
Was but a vain cycloidal fea..."></div>
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