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<div style="background:#fff;border:#bbb dashed 1px;padding:5px"><a href="http://en.citatepedia.ro/comments.php?id=343024" style="color:#000;text-decoration:none"><div style="margin:10px 0"><strong>To Either</strong></div><div style="margin:10px 0">Back further than<br>I know, in San<br>Francisco dwelt a wealthy man.<br>So rich was he<br>That none could be<br>Wise, good and great in like degree.</div><div style="margin:10px 0">'Tis true he wrought,<br>In deed or thought,<br>But few of all the things he ought;<br>But men said: 'Who<br>Would wish him to?<br>Great souls are born to be, not do!'</div><div style="margin:10px 0">One thing, indeed,<br>He did, we read,<br>Which was becoming, all agreed:<br>Grown provident,<br>Ere life was spent<br>He built a mighty monument.</div><div style="margin:10px 0">For longer than<br>I know, in San<br>Francisco lived a beggar man;<br>And when in bed<br>They found him dead<br>'Just like the scamp!' the people said.</div><div style="margin:10px 0">He died, they say,<br>On the same day<br>His wealthy neighbor passed away.<br>What matters it<br>When beggars quit<br>Their beats? I answer: Not a bit.</div><div style="margin:10px 0">They got a spade<br>And pick and made<br>A hole, and there the chap was laid.<br>'He asked for bread,'<br>'Twas neatly said:<br>'He'll get not even a stone instead.'</div><div style="margin:10px 0">The years rolled round:<br>His humble mound<br>Sank to the level of the ground;<br>And men forgot<br>That the bare spot<br>Was like (and was) the beggar's lot.</div><div style="margin:10px 0">Forgotten, too,<br>Was t'other, who<br>Had reared the monument to woo<br>Inconstant Fame,<br>Though still his name<br>Shouted in granite just the same.</div><div style="margin:10px 0">That name, I swear,<br>They both did bear<br>The beggar and the millionaire.<br>That lofty tomb,<br>Then, honored-whom?<br>For argument here's ample room.</div><div style="margin:10px 0">I'll not debate,<br>But only state<br>The scamp first claimed it at the Gate.<br>St. Peter, proud<br>To serve him, bowed<br>And showed him to the softest cloud.</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=343024" data-title="To Either de Ambrose Bierce" data-description="Back further than
I know, in San
Francisco dwelt a wealthy man.
So rich was he
That none could be
Wise, good and great in like degree.

'Tis true he wrought,
In deed or thought,
But few of all the things he ought;
But men said: 'Who
Would wish him..."></div>
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