All Poems

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A youth in apparel that glittered

© Stephen Crane

A youth in apparel that glittered
Went to walk in a grim forest.
There he met an assassin
Attired all in garb of old days;

I stood upon a highway

© Stephen Crane

But I said, "Hence!
Leave me with mine own,
And take you yours away;
I can't buy of your patterns of God,
The little gods you may rightly prefer."

On the desert

© Stephen Crane

On the desert
A silence from the moon's deepest valley.
Fire rays fall athwart the robes
Of hooded men, squat and dumb.

"It was wrong to do this," said the angel

© Stephen Crane

"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."

There came whisperings in the winds

© Stephen Crane

There came whisperings in the winds:
"Good-bye! Good-bye!"
Little voices called in the darkness:
"Good-bye! Good-bye!"

When a people reach the top of a hill,

© Stephen Crane

When a people reach the top of a hill,
Then does God lean toward them,
Shortens tongues and lengthens arms.
A vision of their dead comes to the weak.

Once there was a man

© Stephen Crane

Once there was a man --
Oh, so wise!
In all drink
He detected the bitter,

There was a man and a woman

© Stephen Crane

There was a man and a woman
Who sinned.
Then did the man heap the punishment
All upon the head of her,
And went away gaily.

I met a seer

© Stephen Crane

He smiled.
Then he opened the book
And held it before me. --
Strange that I should have grown so suddenly blind.

Behold, the grave of a wicked man

© Stephen Crane

Now, this is it --
If the spirit was just,
Why did the maid weep?

Should the wide world roll away,

© Stephen Crane

Should the wide world roll away,
Leaving black terror,
Limitless night,
Nor God, nor man, nor place to stand

Many red devils ran from my heart

© Stephen Crane

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

Charity thou art a lie,

© Stephen Crane

Charity thou art a lie,
A toy of women,
A pleasure of certain men.
In the presence of justice,

"What says the sea, little shell?"

© Stephen Crane

"What says the sea, little shell?
What says the sea?
Long has our brother been silent to us,
Kept his message for the ships,
Awkward ships, stupid ships."

There was, before me

There was, before me,
Mile upon mile
Of snow, ice, burning sand.
And yet I could look beyond all this,

If there is a witness to my little life,

If there is a witness to my little life,
To my tiny throes and struggles,
He sees a fool;
And it is not fine for gods to menace fools.

Upon the road of my life

Upon the road of my life,
Passed me many fair creatures,
Clothed all in white, and radiant.
To one, finally, I made speech:

A learned man came to me once

A learned man came to me once.
He said, "I know the way, -- come."
And I was overjoyed at this.
Together we hastened.

A man saw a ball of gold in the sky

A man saw a ball of gold in the sky;
He climbed for it,
And eventually he achieved it --
It was clay.

The trees in the garden rained flowers.

The trees in the garden rained flowers.
Children ran there joyously.
They gathered the flowers
Each to himself.