Friend, your white beard sweeps the ground in
General
Friend, your white beard sweeps the ground.
Why do you stand, expectant?
Do you hope to see it
In one of your withered days?
With your old eyes
Do you hope to see
The triumphal march of justice?
Do not wait, friend!
Take your white beard
And your old eyes
To more tender lands.
By
Stephen Crane
Tell Your Friends About It |
Print This Poem Comments
You should be logged in to be able to leave comments
Other poems by Stephen Crane:
"And the sins of the fathers shall be" "Have you ever made a just man?" "I have heard the sunset song of the birches," "It was wrong to do this," said the angel "Tell brave deeds of war." "Think as I think," said a man "Truth," said a traveller "What says the sea, little shell?" A god in wrath A learned man came to me once A little ink more or less! A man feared that he might find an assassin A man said to the universe: A man saw a ball of gold in the sky A man toiled on a burning road A man went before a strange God A newspaper is a collection of half-injustices A slant of sun on dull brown walls, A spirit sped A youth in apparel that glittered And you love me Ay, workman, make me a dream, Behold, from the land of the farther suns Behold, the grave of a wicked man Black riders came from the sea. Blustering God Charity thou art a lie, Do not weep, maiden, for war is kind Each small gleam was a voice, Fast rode the knight Forth went the candid man Friend, your white beard sweeps the ground God fashioned the ship of the world carefully. God lay dead in heaven I explain the silvered passing of a ship at night, I looked here I met a seer I saw a man pursuing the horizon I stood musing in a black world I stood upon a high place, I stood upon a highway I walked in a desert I was in the darkness If I should cast off this tattered coat If there is a witness to my little life, In a lonely place, In heaven In the desert In the night Love walked alone Many red devils ran from my heart Many workmen Mystic shadow, bending near me, On the desert On the horizon the peaks assembled Once a man clambering to the housetops Once I saw mountains angry Once there came a man Once there was a man Once, I knew a fine song Places among the stars Should the wide world roll away, Supposing that I should have the courage The chatter of a death-demon from a tree-top The impact of a dollar upon the heart The livid lightnings flashed in the clouds The ocean said to me once The sage lectured brilliantly The successful man has thrust himself The trees in the garden rained flowers. The wayfarer, There came whisperings in the winds There was a great cathedral There was a land where lived no violets. There was a man and a woman There was a man who lived a life of fire There was a man with tongue of wood There was crimson clash of war. There was one I met upon the road There was set before me a mighty hill There was, before me There were many who went in huddled procession Three little birds in a row To the maiden Tradition, thou art for suckling children Two or three angels Upon the road of my life Walking in the sky When a people reach the top of a hill, When the prophet, a complacent fat man, Why do you strive for greatness, fool? With eye and with gesture Yes, I have a thousand tongues You say you are holy You tell me this is God?
Poetic People is a service mark of Broken Entity Media.