Poem by Stephen Crane

* * *

Charity thou art a lie,
A toy of women,
A pleasure of certain men.
In the presence of justice,
Lo, the walls of the temple
Are visible
Through thy form of sudden shadows.

1. Why do you strive for greatness, fool?
2. The impact of a dollar upon the heart
3. Once a man clambering to the housetops
4. In heaven
5. Mystic shadow, bending near me

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