Explore "The Saint and the Monk" by Ambrose Bierce on Textopian. Read with annotations and highlights.
Saint Peter at the gate of Heaven displayed / The tools and terrors of his awful trade; / The key, the frown as pitiless as night, / That slays intending trespassers at sight, / And, at his side in easy reach, the curled / Interrogation points all ready to be hurled.
Straight up the shining cloudway (it so chanced / No others were about) a soul advanced -- / A fat, orbicular and jolly soul / With laughter-lines upon each rosy jowl -- / A monk so prepossessing that the saint / Admired him, breathless, until weak and faint, / Forgot his frown and all his questions too, / Forgoing even the customary "Who?" -- / Threw wide the gate and, with a friendly grin, / Said, "Tis a very humble home, but pray walk in."