Poem by Stephen Crane

* * *

In a lonely place,
I encountered a sage
Who sat, all still,
Regarding a newspaper.
He accosted me:
"Sir, what is this?"
Then I saw that I was greater,
Aye, greater than this sage.
I answered him at once,
"Old, old man, it is the wisdom of the age."
The sage looked upon me with admiration.

1. Blustering God
2. Many workmen
3. I walked in a desert
4. Love walked alone
5. The trees in the garden rained flowers

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