Poem by Stephen Crane

* * *

Walking in the sky,
A man in strange black garb
Encountered a radiant form.
Then his steps were eager;
Bowed he devoutly.
”My Lord,” said he.
But the spirit knew him not.

1. There were many who went in huddled procession
2. Why do you strive for greatness, fool?
3. The impact of a dollar upon the heart
4. Once a man clambering to the housetops
5. In heaven

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