Poem by Stephen Crane

* * *

Yes, I have a thousand tongues,
And nine and ninety-nine lie.
Though I strive to use the one,
It will make no melody at my will,
But is dead in my mouth.

1. In the night
2. A spirit sped
3. If there is a witness to my little life
4. Blustering God
5. A man toiled on a burning road

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