Stephen Crane Poems

A man said to the universe:
"Sir I exist!"
"However," replied the universe,
"The fact has not created in me
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In the desert
I saw a creature, naked, bestial,
who, squatting upon the ground,
Held his heart in his hands,
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Behold, the grave of a wicked man,
And near it, a stern spirit.

There came a drooping maid with violets,
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Do not weep, maiden, for war is kind.
Because your lover threw wild hands toward the sky
And the affrighted steed ran on alone,
Do not weep.
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I saw a man pursuing the horizon;
Round and round they sped.
I was disturbed at this;
I accosted the man.
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A man went before a strange God --
The God of many men, sadly wise.
And the deity thundered loudly,
Fat with rage, and puffing.
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"It was wrong to do this," said the angel.
"You should live like a flower,
Holding malice like a puppy,
Waging war like a lambkin."
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A spirit sped
Through spaces of night;
And as he sped, he called,
"God! God!"
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And you love me

I love you.
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The wayfarer,
Perceiving the pathway to truth,
Was struck with astonishment.
It was thickly grown with weeds.
...