Poem by Stephen Crane

* * *

To the maiden
The sea was blue meadow,
Alive with little froth-people
Singing.

To the sailor, wrecked,
The sea was dead grey walls
Superlative in vacancy,
Upon which nevertheless at fateful time
Was written
The grim hatred of nature.

1. Once a man clambering to the housetops
2. You tell me this is God?
3. The ocean said to me once
4. Blustering God
5. On the horizon the peaks assembled

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