Poem By Ambrose Bierce
Two villains of the highest rank
Set out one night to rob a bank.
They found the building, looked it o'er,
Each window noted, tried each door,
Scanned carefully the lidded hole
For minstrels to cascade the coal
In short, examined five-and-twenty
Good paths from poverty to plenty.
But all were sealed, they saw full soon,
Against the minions of the moon.
'Enough,' said one: 'I'm satisfied.'
The other, smiling fair and wide,
Said: 'I'm as highly pleased as you:
No burglar ever can get through.
Fate surely prospers our design
The booty all is yours and mine.'
So, full of hope, the following day
To the exchange they took their way
And bought, with manner free and frank,
Some stock of that devoted bank;
And they became, inside the year,
One President and one Cashier.
Their crime I can no further trace
The means of safety to embrace,
I overdrew and left the place.