Poem by Stephen Crane

* * *

A learned man came to me once.
He said, ”I know the way, -- come.”
And I was overjoyed at this.
Together we hastened.
Soon, too soon, were we
Where my eyes were useless,
And I knew not the ways of my feet.
I clung to the hand of my friend;
But at last he cried, ”I am lost.”

1. If I should cast off this tattered coat
2. Two or three angels
3. If there is a witness to my little life
4. The successful man has thrust himself
5. Ay, workman, make me a dream

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