O, what's the loud uproar assailing
Mine ears without cease?
'Tis the voice of the hopeful, all-hailing
The horrors of peace.
ah, Peace Universol; the woo it--
Would marry it, too.
If only they knew how to do it
'Twere easy to do.
They're working by night and by day
On their problem, like moles.
Have mercy, O Heave, I preay,
On their meddlesome souls!
Ro Amil.
Castle Books Devil's Dictionary of Ambrose Bierce
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