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Poem by Stephen Crane


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Tradition, thou art for suckling children,
Thou art the enlivening milk for babes;
But no meat for men is in thee.
Then --
But, alas, we all are babes.



Stephen Crane


Stephen Crane's other poems:
  1. Why do you strive for greatness, fool?
  2. Once a man clambering to the housetops
  3. Mystic shadow, bending near me
  4. Two or three angels
  5. Once, I knew a fine song


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