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. If I should cast off this tattered coat
2. There was a man and a woman
3. A man toiled on a burning road
4. Tell brave deeds of war
5. A spirit sped

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