Stephen Crane Poems

I walked in a desert.
And I cried,
"Ah, God, take me from this place!"
A voice said, "It is no desert."
...

ONCE I saw mountains angry,
And ranged in battle-front.
Against them stood a little man;
...

A youth in apparel that glittered
Went to walk in a grim forest.
There he met an assassin
...

I stood musing in a black world,
Not knowing where to direct my feet.
And I saw the quick stream of men
Pouring ceaselessly,
...

A slant of sun on dull brown walls,
A forgotten sky of bashful blue.
...

I met a seer.
He held in his hands
The book of wisdom.
"Sir," I addressed him,
...

I explain the silvered passing of a ship at night,
The sweep of each sad lost wave,
The dwindling boom of the steel thing's striving,
...

In heaven,
Some little blades of grass
Stood before God.
"What did you do?"
...

Love walked alone.
The rocks cut her tender feet,
And the brambles tore her fair limbs.
There came a companion to her,
...

Many red devils ran from my heart
And out upon the page,
They were so tiny
The pen could mash them.
...