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Poem by Stephen Crane

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I have heard the sunset song of the birches,
A white melody in the silence,
I have seen a quarrel of the pines.
At nightfall
The little grasses have rushed by me
With the wind men.
These things have I lived, quoth the maniac,
Possessing only eyes and ears.
But you --
You don green spectacles before you look at roses.

Stephen Crane

Stephen Crane's other poems:
  1. There were many who went in huddled procession
  2. When a people reach the top of a hill
  3. Why do you strive for greatness, fool?
  4. The impact of a dollar upon the heart
  5. Once a man clambering to the housetops

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