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Poem by Stephen Crane


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Behold, from the land of the farther suns
I returned.
And I was in a reptile-swarming place,
Peopled, otherwise, with grimaces,
Shrouded above in black impenetrableness.
I shrank, loathing,
Sick with it.
And I said to him,
"What is this?"
He made answer slowly,
"Spirit, this is a world;
This was your home."



Stephen Crane


Stephen Crane's other poems:
  1. There were many who went in huddled procession
  2. Why do you strive for greatness, fool?
  3. The impact of a dollar upon the heart
  4. Once a man clambering to the housetops
  5. In heaven


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