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A poem by Ambrose Bierce |
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One Of The Redeemed |
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Title: One Of The Redeemed Author: Ambrose Bierce [More Titles by Bierce] Saint Peter, standing at the Gate, beheld A pleasant soul as ever was, he seemed: "Good morning, Peter." There was just a touch The Saint bent gravely, like a stately tree, "Renan of Paris," said the immortal part-- "I'm somewhat famous, too, I grieve to tell, "That's of no consequence," the Saint replied, "No one up here cares anything for that. "It seems to me you were accused one day "Quite likely," said the other; "but I swear Just then a soul appeared upon the wall, About his head a golden halo gleamed, A harp he bore and vigorously thumbed, His countenance, suffused with holy pride, "Ah! that's the chap," said Peter, "who declares: "Yes, that's the fellow--he's a preacher--came "Do you believe him?" said Renan. "Great Scott! "Just walk right in and make yourself at home. "He's only here because the Devil swore Resting his eyes one moment on that proof And stepping down from cloud to cloud, said he: [The end] GO TO TOP OF SCREEN |