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.

1. A spirit sped
2. On the horizon the peaks assembled
3. "Think as I think," said a man
4. Walking in the sky
5. Many workmen

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