Poem by Stephen Crane

* * *

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.

1. Upon the road of my life
2. A man toiled on a burning road
3. The successful man has thrust himself
4. Supposing that I should have the courage
5. I stood upon a highway

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