Poem by Stephen Crane

* * *

In the desert
I saw a creature, naked, bestial,
Who, squatting upon the ground,
Held his heart in his hands,
And ate of it.
I said: "Is it good, friend?"
"It is bitter - bitter," he answered;
"But I like it
Because it is bitter,
And because it is my heart."

1. Love walked alone
2. Tell brave deeds of war
3. A spirit sped
4. If there is a witness to my little life
5. Why do you strive for greatness, fool?

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