Classics > Poetry

War Is Kind

Stephen Crane

1899

Contents

Do not weep, maiden, for war is kind.
What says the sea, little shell?
To the maiden
A little ink more or less!
"Have you ever made a just man?"
I explain the silvered passing of a ship at night,
"I have heard the sunset song of the birches,
Fast rode the knight
Forth went the candid man
You tell me this is God?
On the desert
A newspaper is a collection of half-injustices
The wayfarer,
A slant of sun on dull brown walls,
Once a man clambering to the housetops
There was a man with tongue of wood
The successful man has thrust himself
In the night
The chatter of a death-demon from a tree-top.
The impact of a dollar upon the heart
A man said to the universe:
When the prophet, a complacent fat
There was a land where lived no
There was one I met upon the road
Aye, workman, make me a dream,
Each small gleam was a voice,
The trees in the garden rained flowers.
Intrigue
Love, forgive me if I wish you grief,
Ah, God, the way your little finger moved,
Once I saw thee idly rocking
Tell me why, behind thee,
And yet I have seen thee happy with me.
I heard thee laugh,
I wonder if sometimes in the dusk,
Love met me at noonday,
I have seen thy face aflame
 Do not weep, maiden, for war is kind.