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About this poet

Stephen Crane was born in Newark, New Jersey, in 1871. A prolific writer of poetry and fiction, his books include The Red Badge of Courage (D. Appleton & Co., 1895), The Black Riders and Other Lines (Boston, Copeland, and Day, 1895), War is Kind (F. A. Stokes, 1899). He died in June of 1900. 

I saw a man pursuing the horizon

I saw a man pursuing the horizon;
Round and round they sped.
I was disturbed at this;
I accosted the man.
"It is futile," I said,
"You can never—"

"You lie," he cried,
And ran on.

This poem appeared in Poem-A-Day on April 21, 2013. Browse the Poem-A-Day archive.

This poem appeared in Poem-A-Day on April 21, 2013. Browse the Poem-A-Day archive.

Stephen Crane

Stephen Crane, born in 1871, was a prolific writer of poetry and fiction and considered a foundation of American naturalism.

by this poet

poem

Once, I knew a fine song,
—It is true, believe me,—
It was all of birds,
And I held them in a basket;
When I opened the wicket,
Heavens! They all flew away.
I cried, “Come back, little thoughts!”
But they only laughed.
They flew on
Until they were as sand
Thrown

poem

A man said to the universe:
“Sir, I exist!”
“However,” replied the universe,
“The fact has not created in me
A sense of obligation.”

poem

Aye, workman, make me a dream,
A dream for my love.
Cunningly weave sunlight,
Breezes, and flowers.
Let it be of the cloth of meadows.
And—good workman—
And let there be a man walking thereon.