| Edmund Clarence Stedman, ed. (1833–1908). An American Anthology, 1787–1900. 1900. |
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| 834. Another Way |
| | | By Ambrose Bierce |
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| I LAY in silence, dead. A woman came | |
| And laid a rose upon my breast, and said, | |
| “May God be merciful.” She spoke my name, | |
| And added, “It is strange to think him dead. | |
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| “He loved me well enough, but ’t was his way | 5 |
| To speak it lightly.” Then, beneath her breath: | |
| “Besides”—I knew what further she would say, | |
| But then a footfall broke my dream of death. | |
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| To-day the words are mine. I lay the rose | |
| Upon her breast, and speak her name, and deem | 10 |
| It strange indeed that she is dead. God knows | |
| I had more pleasure in the other dream. | |
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