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Poem by Stephen Crane


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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.
It is futile, I said,
You can never -

You lie, he cried,
And ran on.



Stephen Crane


Stephen Crane's other poems:
  1. Why do you strive for greatness, fool?
  2. Once a man clambering to the housetops
  3. Mystic shadow, bending near me
  4. Two or three angels
  5. Once, I knew a fine song


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