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THE BLACK RIDERS AND OTHER LINES.
by Stephen Crane.
I
Black Riders came from the sea.
There was clang and clang of spear and s.h.i.+eld, And clash and clash of hoof and heel, Wild shouts and the wave of hair In the rush upon the wind: Thus the ride of Sin.
II
Three little birds in a row Sat musing.
A man pa.s.sed near that place.
Then did the little birds nudge each other.
They said, "He thinks he can sing."
They threw back their heads to laugh, With quaint countenances They regarded him.
They were very curious, Those three little birds in a row.
III
In the desert I saw a creature, naked, b.e.s.t.i.a.l, Who, squatting upon the ground, Held his heart in his hands, And ate of it.
I said, "Is it good, friend?"
"It is bitter--bitter," he answered; "But I like it Because it is bitter, And because it is my heart."
IV
Yes, I have a thousand tongues, And nine and ninety-nine lie.
Though I strive to use the one, It will make no melody at my will, But is dead in my mouth.
V
Once there came a man Who said, "Range me all men of the world in rows."
And instantly There was terrific clamor among the people Against being ranged in rows.
There was a loud quarrel, world-wide.
It endured for ages; And blood was shed By those who would not stand in rows, And by those who pined to stand in rows, Eventually, the man went to death, weeping.
And those who staid in b.l.o.o.d.y scuffle Knew not the great simplicity.
VI
G.o.d fas.h.i.+oned the s.h.i.+p of the world carefully With the infinite skill of an All-Master Made He the hull and the sails, Held He the rudder Ready for adjustment.
Erect stood He, scanning his work proudly.
Then--at fateful time--a Wrong called, And G.o.d turned, heeding.
Lo, the s.h.i.+p, at this opportunity, slipped slyly, Making cunning noiseless travel down the ways.
So that, forever rudderless, it went upon the seas Going ridiculous voyages, Making quaint progress, Turning as with serious purpose Before stupid winds.
And there were many in the sky Who laughed at this thing.
VII
Mystic Shadow, bending near me, Who art thou?
Whence come ye?
And--tell me--is it fair Or is the truth bitter as eaten fire?
Tell me!
Fear not that I should quaver, For I dare--I dare.
Then, tell me!
VIII
I looked here; I looked there; Nowhere could I see my love.
And--this time-- She was in my heart.
Truly, then, I have no complaint, For though she be fair and fairer, She is none so fair as she In my heart.
IX
I stood upon a high place, And saw, below, many devils Running, leaping, And carousing in sin.
One looked up, grinning, And said, "Comrade! Brother!"
X
Should the wide world roll away, Leaving black terror, Limitless night, Nor G.o.d, nor man, nor place to stand Would be to me essential, If thou and thy white arms were there, And the fall to doom a long way.
XI
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.