Poem by Stephen Crane

* * *

I HEARD thee laugh,
And in this merriment
I defined the measure of my pain;
I knew that I was alone,
Alone with love,
Poor shivering love,
And he, little sprite,
Came to watch with me,
And at midnight
We were like two creatures by a dead camp-fire. 

1. A spirit sped
2. On the horizon the peaks assembled
3. Love walked alone
4. Walking in the sky
5. The ocean said to me once

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