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Poem by Stephen Crane

* * *

There was a great cathedral.
To solemn songs,
A white procession
Moved toward the altar.
The chief man there
Was erect, and bore himself proudly.
Yet some could see him cringe,
As in a place of danger,
Throwing frightened glances into the air,
A-start at threatening faces of the past.

Stephen Crane

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

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