Of life's elixir I had writ, when sleep
(Pray Heaven it spared him who the writing read!)
Settled upon my senses with so deep
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In my opinion, Bierce was much better at writing short stories than at poetry. Years ago I was enthralled and terrified upon reading his story THE DAMNED THING. That being said, I still really like the last two verses of this poem, which ends with him waking up from his dream, much like in my recent poem, POETRY HEAVEN.
Incredible coincidence of similar experience, writtn in a play form, I suppose the universal conscious, unconscious, doing its job? Panmelys
Experiences the great force that one writes.. very beautiful