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<div style="background:#fff;border:#bbb dashed 1px;padding:5px"><a href="http://en.citatepedia.ro/comments.php?id=342779" style="color:#000;text-decoration:none"><div style="margin:10px 0"><strong>Down Among The Dead Men</strong></div><div style="margin:10px 0">Within my dark and narrow bed<br>I rested well, new-laid:<br>I heard above my fleshless head<br>The grinding of a spade.</div><div style="margin:10px 0">A gruffer note ensued and grew<br>To harsh and harsher strains:<br>The poet Welcker then I knew<br>Was 'snatching' my remains.</div><div style="margin:10px 0">'O Welcker, let your hand be stayed<br>And leave me here in peace.<br>Of your revenge you should have made<br>An end with my decease.'</div><div style="margin:10px 0">'Hush, Mouldyshanks, and hear my moan:<br>I once, as you're aware,<br>Was eminent in letters-known<br>And honored everywhere.</div><div style="margin:10px 0">'My splendor made all Berkeley bright<br>And Sacramento blind.<br>Men swore no writer e'er could write<br>Like me-if I'd a mind.</div><div style="margin:10px 0">'With honors all insatiate,<br>With curst ambition smit,<br>Too far, alas! I tempted fate<br>I _published_ what I'd writ!</div><div style="margin:10px 0">'Good Heaven! with what a hunger wild<br>Oblivion swallows fame!<br>Men who have known me from a child<br>Forget my very name!</div><div style="margin:10px 0">'Even creditors with searching looks<br>My face cannot recall;<br>My heaviest one-he prints my books<br>Oblivious most of all.</div><div style="margin:10px 0">'O I should feel a sweet content<br>If one poor dun his claim<br>Would bring to me for settlement,<br>And bully me by name.</div><div style="margin:10px 0">'My dog is at my gate forlorn;<br>It howls through all the night,<br>And when I greet it in the morn<br>It answers with a bite!'</div><div style="margin:10px 0">'O Poet, what in Satan's name<br>To me's all this ado?<br>Will snatching me restore the fame<br>That printing snatched from you?'</div><div style="margin:10px 0">'Peace, dread Remains; I'm not about<br>To do a deed of sin.<br>I come not here to hale you out<br>I'm trying to get in.'</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=342779" data-title="Down Among The Dead Men de Ambrose Bierce" data-description="Within my dark and narrow bed
I rested well, new-laid:
I heard above my fleshless head
The grinding of a spade.

A gruffer note ensued and grew
To harsh and harsher strains:
The poet Welcker then I knew
Was 'snatching' my remains.

'O Welcker, let..."></div>
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