<div style="background:#fff;border:#bbb dashed 1px;padding:5px"><a href="http://en.citatepedia.ro/comments.php?id=343021" style="color:#000;text-decoration:none"><div style="margin:10px 0"><strong>To 'Colonel' Dan. Burns</strong></div><div style="margin:10px 0">They say, my lord, that you're a Warwick. Well,<br>The title's an absurd one, I believe:<br>You make no kings, you have no kings to sell,<br>Though really 'twere easy to conceive<br>You stuffing half-a-dozen up your sleeve.<br>No, you're no Warwick, skillful from the shell<br>To hatch out sovereigns. On a mare's nest, maybe,<br>You'd incubate a little jackass baby.</div><div style="margin:10px 0">I fancy, too, that it is naught but stuff,<br>This 'power' that you're said to be 'behind<br>The throne.' I'm sure 'twere accurate enough<br>To represent you simply as inclined<br>To push poor Markham (ailing in his mind<br>And body, which were never very tough)<br>Round in an invalid's wheeled chair. Such menial<br>Employment to low natures is congenial.</div><div style="margin:10px 0">No, Dan, you're an impostor every way:<br>A human bubble, for 'the earth,' you know,<br>'Hath bubbles, as the water hath.' Some day<br>Some careless hand will prick your film, and O,<br>How utterly you'll vanish! Daniel, throw<br>(As fallen Woolsey might to Cromwell say)<br>Your curst ambition to the pigs-though truly<br>'Twould make them greater pigs, and more unruly.</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=343021" data-title="To 'Colonel' Dan. Burns de Ambrose Bierce" data-description="They say, my lord, that you're a Warwick. Well, The title's an absurd one, I believe: You make no kings, you have no kings to sell, Though really 'twere easy to conceive You stuffing half-a-dozen up your sleeve. No, you're no Warwick, skillful fro..."></div> </div> </div>

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