Stephen Crane 2

The march of the mountains began.As they marched, they sang,‘Aye! We come! We come!’

Yonder on the shoreIs a woman, weeping.I have watched her.Go you and tell her this —Her lover I have laidIn cool green hall.There is wealth of golden sandAnd pillars, coral-red;Two white fish stand guard at his bier.‘Tell her thisAnd more —That the king of the seasWeeps too, old, helpless man.The bustling fatesHeap his hands with…

Though I strive to use the one,It will make no melody at my will,But is dead in my mouth.

They gathered the flowersEach to himself.Now there were someWho gathered great heaps —Having opportunity and skill —Until, behold, only chance blossomsRemained for the feeble.Then a little spindling tutorRan importantly to the father, crying:‘Pray, come hither!See this unjust thing in your garden!’But when the father had surveyed,He admonished the tutor:‘Not so, small sage!This thing is just.For,…

And the brambles tore her fair limbs.There came a companion to her,But, alas, he was no help,For his name was heart’s pain. .

Nowhere could I see my love.And — this time —She was in my heart.Truly, then, I have no complaint,For though she be fair and fairer,She is none so fair as sheIn my heart.

And as he sped, he called,‘God! God!’He went through valleysOf black death-slime,Ever calling,‘God! God!’Their echoesFrom crevice and cavernMocked him:‘God! God! God!’Fleetly into the plains of spaceHe went, ever calling,‘God! God!’Eventually, then, he screamed,Mad in denial,‘Ah, there is no God!’A swift hand,A sword from the sky,Smote him,And he was dead.

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,The little cry of a man to a man,A shadow falling across the greyer night,And the sinking of the small star;Then the waste, the far waste of waters,And the soft lashing of the…

He said, ‘Show me of your wares.’And this I did,Holding forth one.He said, ‘It is a sin.’Then held I forth another;He said, ‘It is a sin.’Then held I forth another;He said, ‘It is a sin.’And so to the end;Always he said, ‘It is a sin.’And, finally, I cried out,‘But I have none other.’Then did he…

And clash and clash of hoof and heel,Wild shouts and the wave of hairIn the rush upon the wind:Thus the ride of sin.