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Beecher

Ambrose Bierce 1842 (Meigs County) – 1914 (Chihuahua)

So, Beecher's dead. His was a great soul, too
Great as a giant organ is, whose reeds
Hold in them all the souls of all the creeds
That man has ever taught and never knew.

When on this mighty instrument He laid
His hand Who fashioned it, our common moan
Was suppliant in its thundering. The tone
Grew more vivacious when the Devil played.

No more those luring harmonies we hear,
And lo! already men forget the sound.
They turn, retracing all the dubious ground
O'er which it led them, pigwise, by the ear.

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Submitted on May 13, 2011

29 sec read
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Ambrose Bierce

Ambrose Gwinnett Bierce was an American editorialist, journalist, short story writer, fabulist, and satirist. more…

All Ambrose Bierce poems | Ambrose Bierce Books

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    "Beecher" Poetry.com. STANDS4 LLC, 2021. Web. 19 Sep. 2021. <https://www.poetry.com/poem/1726/beecher>.

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