Poem by Stephen Crane

* * *

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.

1. Two or three angels
2. Love walked alone
3. Charity thou art a lie
4. In the night
5. A man toiled on a burning road

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