Poem by Stephen Crane

* * *

Should the wide world roll away,
Leaving black terror,
Limitless night,
Nor God, nor man, nor place to stand
Would be to me essential,
If thou and thy white arms were there,
And the fall to doom a long way.

1. If I should cast off this tattered coat
2. Ay, workman, make me a dream
3. A god in wrath
4. Two or three angels
5. If there is a witness to my little life

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