Men of steel
flickered
and gleamed
Like riot of silver lights,
And the gold of the knight's good banner
Still waved on a castle wall.
Like riot of silver lights,
And the gold of the knight's good banner
Still waved on a castle wall.
Stephen Crane
1 with
active links or immediate access to the full terms of the Project
Gutenberg(TM) License.
*1. E. 6. * You may convert to and distribute this work in any binary,
compressed, marked up, nonproprietary or proprietary form, including any
word processing or hypertext form. However, if you provide access to or
distribute copies of a Project Gutenberg(TM) work in a format other than
"Plain Vanilla ASCII" or other format used in the official version
posted on the official Project Gutenberg(TM) web site
(http://www. gutenberg. org), you must, at no additional cost, fee or
expense to the user, provide a copy, a means of exporting a copy, or a
means of obtaining a copy upon request, of the work in its original
"Plain Vanilla ASCII" or other form. Any alternate format must include
the full Project Gutenberg(TM) License as specified in paragraph 1. E. 1.
*1. E. 7. * Do not charge a fee for access to, viewing, displaying,
performing, copying or distributing any Project Gutenberg(TM) works unless
you comply with paragraph 1. E. 8 or 1. E. 9.
*1. E. 8. * You may charge a reasonable fee for copies of or providing
access to or distributing Project Gutenberg(TM) electronic works provided
that
- You pay a royalty fee of 20% of the gross profits you derive from
the use of Project Gutenberg(TM) works calculated using the method you
already use to calculate your applicable taxes. The fee is owed to
the owner of the Project Gutenberg(TM) trademark, but he has agreed to
donate royalties under this paragraph to the Project Gutenberg
Literary Archive Foundation. Royalty payments must be paid within 60
days following each date on which you prepare (or are legally
required to prepare) your periodic tax returns. Royalty payments
should be clearly marked as such and sent to the Project Gutenberg
Literary Archive Foundation at the address specified in Section 4,
"Information about donations to the Project Gutenberg Literary
Archive Foundation. "
- You provide a full refund of any money paid by a user who notifies
you in writing (or by e-mail) within 30 days of receipt that s/he
does not agree to the terms of the full Project Gutenberg(TM) License.
You must require such a user to return or destroy all copies of the
works possessed in a physical medium and discontinue all use of and
all access to other copies of Project Gutenberg(TM) works.
- You provide, in accordance with paragraph 1. F. 3, a full refund of
any money paid for a work or a replacement copy, if a defect in the
electronic work is discovered and reported to you within 90 days of
receipt of the work.
- You comply with all other terms of this agreement for free
distribution of Project Gutenberg(TM) works.
*1. E. 9. * If you wish to charge a fee or distribute a Project Gutenberg(TM)
electronic work or group of works on different terms than are set forth
in this agreement, you must obtain permission in writing from both the
Project Gutenberg Literary Archive Foundation and Michael Hart, the
owner of the Project Gutenberg(TM) trademark. Contact the Foundation as set
forth in Section 3. below.
*1. F. *
*1. F. 1. * Project Gutenberg volunteers and employees expend considerable
effort to identify, do copyright research on, transcribe and proofread
public domain works in creating the Project Gutenberg(TM) collection.
Despite these efforts, Project Gutenberg(TM) electronic works, and the
medium on which they may be stored, may contain "Defects," such as, but
not limited to, incomplete, inaccurate or corrupt data, transcription
errors, a copyright or other intellectual property infringement, a
defective or damaged disk or other medium, a computer virus, or computer
codes that damage or cannot be read by your equipment.
*1. F. 2. * LIMITED WARRANTY, DISCLAIMER OF DAMAGES - Except for the "Right
of Replacement or Refund" described in paragraph 1. F. 3, the Project
Gutenberg Literary Archive Foundation, the owner of the Project
Gutenberg(TM) trademark, and any other party distributing a Project
Gutenberg(TM) electronic work under this agreement, disclaim all liability
to you for damages, costs and expenses, including legal fees. YOU AGREE
THAT YOU HAVE NO REMEDIES FOR NEGLIGENCE, STRICT LIABILITY, BREACH OF
WARRANTY OR BREACH OF CONTRACT EXCEPT THOSE PROVIDED IN PARAGRAPH 1. F. 3.
YOU AGREE THAT THE FOUNDATION, THE TRADEMARK OWNER, AND ANY DISTRIBUTOR
UNDER THIS AGREEMENT WILL NOT BE LIABLE TO YOU FOR ACTUAL, DIRECT,
INDIRECT, CONSEQUENTIAL, PUNITIVE OR INCIDENTAL DAMAGES EVEN IF YOU GIVE
NOTICE OF THE POSSIBILITY OF SUCH DAMAGE.
*1. F. 3. * LIMITED RIGHT OF REPLACEMENT OR REFUND - If you discover a
defect in this electronic work within 90 days of receiving it, you can
receive a refund of the money (if any) you paid for it by sending a
written explanation to the person you received the work from. If you
received the work on a physical medium, you must return the medium with
your written explanation. The person or entity that provided you with
the defective work may elect to provide a replacement copy in lieu of a
refund. If you received the work electronically, the person or entity
providing it to you may choose to give you a second opportunity to
receive the work electronically in lieu of a refund. If the second copy
is also defective, you may demand a refund in writing without further
opportunities to fix the problem.
*1. F. 4. * Except for the limited right of replacement or refund set forth
in paragraph 1. F. 3, this work is provided to you 'AS-IS,' WITH NO OTHER
WARRANTIES OF ANY KIND, EXPRESS OR IMPLIED, INCLUDING BUT NOT LIMITED TO
WARRANTIES OF MERCHANTIBILITY OR FITNESS FOR ANY PURPOSE.
*1. F. 5. * Some states do not allow disclaimers of certain implied
warranties or the exclusion or limitation of certain types of damages.
If any disclaimer or limitation set forth in this agreement violates the
law of the state applicable to this agreement, the agreement shall be
interpreted to make the maximum disclaimer or limitation permitted by
the applicable state law. The invalidity or unenforceability of any
provision of this agreement shall not void the remaining provisions.
*1. F. 6. * INDEMNITY - You agree to indemnify and hold the Foundation, the
trademark owner, any agent or employee of the Foundation, anyone
providing copies of Project Gutenberg(TM) electronic works in accordance
with this agreement, and any volunteers associated with the production,
promotion and distribution of Project Gutenberg(TM) electronic works,
harmless from all liability, costs and expenses, including legal fees,
that arise directly or indirectly from any of the following which you do
or cause to occur: (a) distribution of this or any Project Gutenberg(TM)
work, (b) alteration, modification, or additions or deletions to any
Project Gutenberg(TM) work, and (c) any Defect you cause.
Section 2. Information about the Mission of Project Gutenberg(TM)
Project Gutenberg(TM) is synonymous with the free distribution of
electronic works in formats readable by the widest variety of computers
including obsolete, old, middle-aged and new computers. It exists
because of the efforts of hundreds of volunteers and donations from
people in all walks of life.
Volunteers and financial support to provide volunteers with the
assistance they need, is critical to reaching Project Gutenberg(TM)'s goals
and ensuring that the Project Gutenberg(TM) collection will remain freely
available for generations to come. In 2001, the Project Gutenberg
Literary Archive Foundation was created to provide a secure and
permanent future for Project Gutenberg(TM) and future generations. To learn
more about the Project Gutenberg Literary Archive Foundation and how
your efforts and donations can help, see Sections 3 and 4 and the
Foundation web page at http://www. pglaf. org .
Section 3. Information about the Project Gutenberg Literary Archive
Foundation
The Project Gutenberg Literary Archive Foundation is a non profit
501(c)(3) educational corporation organized under the laws of the state
of Mississippi and granted tax exempt status by the Internal Revenue
Service. The Foundation's EIN or federal tax identification number is
64-6221541. Its 501(c)(3) letter is posted at
http://www. gutenberg. org/fundraising/pglaf . Contributions to the
Project Gutenberg Literary Archive Foundation are tax deductible to the
full extent permitted by U. S. federal laws and your state's laws.
The Foundation's principal office is located at 4557 Melan Dr.
S. Fairbanks, AK, 99712. , but its volunteers and employees are scattered
throughout numerous locations. Its business office is located at 809
North 1500 West, Salt Lake City, UT 84116, (801) 596-1887, email
business@pglaf. org. Email contact links and up to date contact
information can be found at the Foundation's web site and official page
at http://www. pglaf. org
For additional contact information:
Dr. Gregory B. Newby
Chief Executive and Director
gbnewby@pglaf. org
Section 4. Information about Donations to the Project Gutenberg Literary
Archive Foundation
Project Gutenberg(TM) depends upon and cannot survive without wide spread
public support and donations to carry out its mission of increasing the
number of public domain and licensed works that can be freely
distributed in machine readable form accessible by the widest array of
equipment including outdated equipment. Many small donations ($1 to
$5,000) are particularly important to maintaining tax exempt status with
the IRS.
The Foundation is committed to complying with the laws regulating
charities and charitable donations in all 50 states of the United
States. Compliance requirements are not uniform and it takes a
considerable effort, much paperwork and many fees to meet and keep up
with these requirements. We do not solicit donations in locations where
we have not received written confirmation of compliance. To SEND
DONATIONS or determine the status of compliance for any particular state
visit http://www. gutenberg. org/fundraising/donate
While we cannot and do not solicit contributions from states where we
have not met the solicitation requirements, we know of no prohibition
against accepting unsolicited donations from donors in such states who
approach us with offers to donate.
International donations are gratefully accepted, but we cannot make any
statements concerning tax treatment of donations received from outside
the United States. U. S. laws alone swamp our small staff.
Please check the Project Gutenberg Web pages for current donation
methods and addresses. Donations are accepted in a number of other ways
including checks, online payments and credit card donations. To donate,
please visit: http://www. gutenberg. org/fundraising/donate
Section 5. General Information About Project Gutenberg(TM) electronic
works.
Professor Michael S. Hart is the originator of the Project Gutenberg(TM)
concept of a library of electronic works that could be freely shared
with anyone. For thirty years, he produced and distributed Project
Gutenberg(TM) eBooks with only a loose network of volunteer support.
Project Gutenberg(TM) eBooks are often created from several printed
editions, all of which are confirmed as Public Domain in the U. S. unless
a copyright notice is included. Thus, we do not necessarily keep eBooks
in compliance with any particular paper edition.
Each eBook is in a subdirectory of the same number as the eBook's eBook
number, often in several formats including plain vanilla ASCII,
compressed (zipped), HTML and others.
Corrected _editions_ of our eBooks replace the old file and take over
the old filename and etext number. The replaced older file is renamed.
_Versions_ based on separate sources are treated as new eBooks receiving
new filenames and etext numbers.
Most people start at our Web site which has the main PG search facility:
http://www. gutenberg. org
This Web site includes information about Project Gutenberg(TM), including
how to make donations to the Project Gutenberg Literary Archive
Foundation, how to help produce our new eBooks, and how to subscribe to
our email newsletter to hear about new eBooks.
? The Project Gutenberg EBook of War is Kind, by Stephen Crane
This eBook is for the use of anyone anywhere at no cost and with
almost no restrictions whatsoever. You may copy it, give it away or
re-use it under the terms of the Project Gutenberg License included
with this eBook or online at www. gutenberg. net
Title: War is Kind
Author: Stephen Crane
Release Date: October 24, 2011 [EBook #9870]
Language: English
*** START OF THIS PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK WAR IS KIND ***
Produced by an anonymous Project Gutenberg volunteer.
WAR IS KIND
by Stephen Crane
Drawings by Will Bradley
1899
Do not weep, maiden, for war is kind.
Because your lover threw wild hands toward the sky
And the affrighted steed ran on alone,
Do not weep.
War is kind.
Hoarse, booming drums of the
regiment,
Little souls who thirst for fight,
These men were born to drill and die.
The unexplained glory files above
them,
Great is the battle-god, great, and his
kingdom--
A field where a thousand corpses lie.
Do not weep, babe, for war is kind.
Because your father tumbled in the yellow
trenches,
Raged at his breast, gulped and died,
Do not weep.
War is kind.
Swift blazing flag of the regiment,
Eagle with crest of red and gold,
These men were born to drill and die.
Point for them the virtue of the slaughter,
Make plain to them the excellence of killing
And a field where a thousand corpses
lie.
Mother whose heart hung humble as a button
On the bright splendid shroud of your son,
Do not weep.
War is kind.
What says the sea, little shell?
"What says the sea?
"Long has our brother been silent to us,
"Kept his message for the ships,
"Awkward ships, stupid ships. "
"The sea bids you mourn, O Pines,
"Sing low in the moonlight.
"He sends tale of the land of doom,
"Of place where endless falls
"A rain of women's tears,
"And men in grey robes--
"Men in grey robes--
"Chant the unknown pain. "
"What says the sea, little shell?
"What says the sea?
"Long has our brother been silent to us,
"Kept is message for the ships,
"Puny ships, silly ships. "
"The sea bids you teach, O Pines,
"Sing low in the moonlight;
"Teach the gold of patience,
"Cry gospel of gentle hands,
"Cry a brotherhood of hearts.
"The sea bids you teach, O Pines. "
"And where is the reward, little shell?
"What says the sea?
"Long has our brother been silent to us,
"Kept his message for the ships,
"Puny ships, silly ships. "
"No word says the sea, O Pines,
"No word says the sea.
"Long will your brother be silent to you,
"Keep his message for the ships,
"O puny ships, silly pines. "
To the maiden
The sea was blue meadow,
Alive with little froth-people
Singing.
To the sailor, wrecked,
The sea was dead grey walls
Superlative in vacancy,
Upon which nevertheless at fateful time
Was written
The grim hatred of nature.
A little ink more or less!
It surely can't matter?
Even the sky and the opulent sea,
The plains and the hills, aloof,
Hear the uproar of all these books.
But it is only a little ink more or less.
What?
You define me God with these trinkets?
Can my misery meal on an ordered walking
Of surpliced numskulls?
And a fanfare of lights?
Or even upon the measured pulpitings
Of the familiar false and true?
Is this God?
Where, then is hell?
Show me some bastard mushrooms
Sprung from a pollution of blood.
It is better.
Where is God?
"Have you ever made a just man? "
"Oh, I have made three," answered
God,
"But two of them are dead,
"And the third--
"Listen! Listen!
"And you will hear the thud of his defeat. "
I explain the silvered passing of a ship
at night,
The sweep of each sad lost wave,
The dwindling boom of the steel thing's striving,
The little cry of a man to a man,
A shadow falling across the greyer night,
And the sinking of the small star;
Then the waste, the far waste of waters,
And the soft lashing of black waves
For long and in loneliness.
Remember, thou, O ship of love,
Thou leavest a far waste of waters,
And the soft lashing of black waves
For long and in loneliness.
"I have heard the sunset song of the
birches,
"A white melody in the silence,
"I have seen a quarrel of the pines.
"At nightfall
"The little grasses have rushed by me
"With the wind men.
"These things have I lived," quoth the
maniac,
"Possessing only eyes and ears.
"But you--
"You don green spectacles before you look at roses. "
Fast rode the knight
With spurs, hot and reeking,
Ever waving an eager sword,
"To save my lady! "
Fast rode the knight,
And leaped from saddle to war.
Men of steel flickered and gleamed
Like riot of silver lights,
And the gold of the knight's good banner
Still waved on a castle wall.
. . . . . . .
A horse,
Blowing, staggering, bloody thing,
Forgotten at foot of castle wall.
A horse
Dead at foot of castle wall.
Forth went the candid man
And spoke freely to the wind--
When he looked about him he was in a far
strange country.
Forth went the candid man
And spoke freely to the stars--
Yellow light tore sight from his eye.
"My good fool," said a learned bystander,
"Your operations are mad. "
"You are too candid," cried the candid man.
And when his stick left the head of the
learned bystander
It was two sticks.
You tell me this is God?
I tell you this is a printed list,
A burning candle and an ass.
On the desert
A silence from the moon's deepest
valley.
Fire rays fall athwart the robes
Of hooded men, squat and dumb.
Before them, a woman
Moves to the blowing of shrill whistles
And distant thunder of drums,
While mystic things, sinuous, dull with
terrible color,
Sleepily fondle her body
Or move at her will, swishing stealthily over
the sand.
The snakes whisper softly;
The whispering, whispering snakes,
Dreaming and swaying and staring,
But always whispering, softly whispering.
The wind streams from the lone reaches
Of Arabia, solemn with night,
And the wild fire makes shimmer of blood
Over the robes of the hooded men
Squat and dumb.
Bands of moving bronze, emerald, yellow,
Circle the throat and arms of her,
And over the sands serpents move warily
Slow, menacing and submissive,
Swinging to the whistles and drums,
The whispering, whispering snakes,
Dreaming and swaying and staring,
But always whispering, softly whispering.
The dignity of the accursed;
The glory of slavery, despair, death,
Is in the dance of the whispering snakes.
A newspaper is a collection of half-injustices
Which, bawled by boys from mile to mile,
Spreads its curious opinion
To a million merciful and sneering men,
While families cuddle the joys of the fireside
When spurred by tale of dire lone agony.
A newspaper is a court
Where every one is kindly and unfairly tried
By a squalor of honest men.
A newspaper is a market
Where wisdom sells its freedom
And melons are crowned by the crowd.
A newspaper is a game
Where his error scores the player victory
While another's skill wins death.
A newspaper is a symbol;
It is fetless life's chronical,
A collection of loud tales
Concentrating eternal stupidities,
That in remote ages lived unhaltered,
Roaming through a fenceless world.
The wayfarer,
Perceiving the pathway to truth,
Was struck with astonishment.
It was thickly grown with weeds.
"Ha," he said,
"I see that none has passed here
"In a long time. "
Later he saw that each weed
Was a singular knife.
"Well," he mumbled at last,
"Doubtless there are other roads. "
A slant of sun on dull brown walls,
A forgotten sky of bashful blue.
Toward God a mighty hymn,
A song of collisions and cries,
Rumbling wheels, hoof-beats, bells,
Welcomes, farewells, love-calls, final moans,
Voices of joy, idiocy, warning, despair,
The unknown appeals of brutes,
The chanting of flowers,
The screams of cut trees,
The senseless babble of hens and wise men--
A cluttered incoherency that says at the
stars;
"O God, save us! "
Once a man clambering to the housetops
Appealed to the heavens.
With a strong voice he called to the deaf
spheres;
A warrior's shout he raised to the suns.
Lo, at last, there was a dot on the clouds,
And--at last and at last--
--God--the sky was filled with armies.
There was a man with tongue of wood
Who essayed to sing,
And in truth it was lamentable.
But there was one who heard
The clip-clapper of this tongue of wood
And knew what the man
Wished to sing,
And with that the singer was content.
The successful man has thrust himself
Through the water of the years,
Reeking wet with mistakes,--
Bloody mistakes;
Slimed with victories over the lesser,
A figure thankful on the shore of money.
Then, with the bones of fools
He buys silken banners
Limned with his triumphant face;
With the skins of wise men
He buys the trivial bows of all.
Flesh painted with marrow
Contributes a coverlet,
A coverlet for his contented slumber.
In guiltless ignorance, in ignorant guilt,
He delivered his secrets to the riven multitude.
"Thus I defended: Thus I wrought. "
Complacent, smiling,
He stands heavily on the dead.
Erect on a pillar of skulls
He declaims his trampling of babes;
Smirking, fat, dripping,
He makes speech in guiltless ignorance,
Innocence.
In the night
Grey heavy clouds muffled the valleys,
And the peaks looked toward God alone.
"O Master that movest the wind with a
finger,
"Humble, idle, futile peaks are we.
"Grant that we may run swiftly across
the world
"To huddle in worship at Thy feet. "
In the morning
A noise of men at work came the clear blue miles,
And the little black cities were apparent.
"O Master that knowest the meaning of raindrops,
"Humble, idle, futile peaks are we.
"Give voice to us, we pray, O Lord,
"That we may sing Thy goodness to the sun. "
In the evening
The far valleys were sprinkled with tiny lights.
"O Master,
"Thou that knowest the value of kings and birds,
"Thou hast made us humble, idle, futile peaks.
"Thous only needest eternal patience;
"We bow to Thy wisdom, O Lord--
"Humble, idle, futile peaks. "
In the night
Grey heavy clouds muffles the valleys,
And the peaks looked toward God alone.
The chatter of a death-demon from a tree-top.
Blood--blood and torn grass--
Had marked the rise of his agony--
This lone hunter.
The grey-green woods impassive
Had watched the threshing of his limbs.
A canoe with flashing paddle,
A girl with soft searching eyes,
A call: "John! "
. . . . . . .
Come, arise, hunter!
Can you not hear?
The chatter of a death-demon from a tree-
top.
The impact of a dollar upon the heart
Smiles warm red light,
Sweeping from the hearth rosily upon the
white table,
With the hanging cool velvet shadows
Moving softly upon the door.
The impact of a million dollars
Is a crash of flunkys,
And yawning emblems of Persia
Cheeked against oak, France and a sabre,
The outcry of old beauty
Whored by pimping merchants
To submission before wine and chatter.
Silly rich peasants stamp the carpets of men,
Dead men who dreamed fragrance and light
Into their woof, their lives;
The rug of an honest bear
Under the feet of a cryptic slave
Who speaks always of baubles,
Forgetting state, multitude, work, and state,
Champing and mouthing of hats,
Making ratful squeak of hats,
Hats.
A man said to the universe:
"Sir, I exist! "
"However," replied the universe,
"The fact has not created in me
"A sense of obligation. "
When the prophet, a complacent fat
man,
Arrived at the mountain-top,
He cried: "Woe to my knowledge!
"I intended to see good white lands
"And bad black lands,
"But the scene is grey. "
There was a land where lived no
violets.
A traveller at once demanded: "Why? "
The people told him:
"Once the violets of this place spoke thus:
"'Until some woman freely give her lover
"'To another woman
"'We will fight in bloody scuffle. '"
Sadly the people added:
"There are no violets here. "
There was one I met upon the road
Who looked at me with kind eyes.
He said: "Show me of your wares. "
And I did,
Holding forth one,
He said: "It is a sin. "
Then I held forth another.
He said: "It is a sin. "
Then I held forth another.
He said: "It is a sin. "
And so to the end.
Always He said: "It is a sin. "
At last, I cried out:
"But I have non other. "
He looked at me
With kinder eyes.
"Poor soul," he said.
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.
Each small gleam was a voice,
A lantern voice--
In little songs of carmine, violet, green, gold.
A chorus of colors came over the water;
The wondrous leaf-shadow no longer wavered,
No pines crooned on the hills,
The blue night was elsewhere a silence,
When the chorus of colors came over the
water,
Little songs of carmine, violet, green, gold.
Small glowing pebbles
Thrown on the dark plane of evening
Sing good ballads of God
And eternity, with soul's rest.
Little priests, little holy fathers,
None can doubt the truth of hour hymning.
When the marvellous chorus comes over the
water,
Songs of carmine, violet, green, gold.
The trees in the garden rained flowers.
Children ran there joyously.
They gathered the flowers
Each to himself.
Now there were some
Who gathered great heaps--
Having opportunity and skill--
Until, behold, only chance blossoms
Remained for the feeble.
Then a little spindling tutor
Ran importantly to the father, crying:
"Pray, come hither!
"See this unjust thing in your garden! "
But when the father had surveyed,
He admonished the tutor:
"Not so, small sage!
"This thing is just.
"For, look you,
"Are not they who possess the flowers
"Stronger, bolder, shrewder
"Than they who have none?
"Why should the strong--
"The beautiful strong--
"Why should they not have the flowers?
Upon reflection, the tutor bowed to the
ground.
"My lord," he said,
"The stars are displaced
"By this towering wisdom. "
INTRIGUE
Thou art my love,
And thou art the peace of sundown
When the blue shadows soothe,
And the grasses and the leaves sleep
To the song of the little brooks,
Woe is me.
Thou art my love,
And thou art a strorm
That breaks black in the sky,
And, sweeping headlong,
Drenches and cowers each tree,
And at the panting end
There is no sound
Save the melancholy cry of a single owl--
Woe is me!
Thou are my love,
And thou art a tinsel thing,
And I in my play
Broke thee easily,
And from the little fragments
Arose my long sorrow--
Woe is me.
Thou art my love,
And thou art a wary violet,
Drooping from sun-caresses,
Answering mine carelessly--
Woe is me.
Thou art my love,
And thou art the ashes of other men's love,
And I bury my face in these ashes,
And I love them--
Woe is me.
Thou art my love,
And thou art the beard
On another man's face--
Woe is me.
Thou art my love,
And thou art a temple,
And in this temple is an altar,
And on this altar is my heart--
Woe is me.
Thou art my love,
And thou art a wretch.
Let these sacred love-lies choke thee,
From I am come to where I know your lies
as truth
And you truth as lies--
Woe is me.
Thou art my love,
And thou art a priestess,
And in they hand is a bloody dagger,
And my doom comes to me surely--
Woe is me.
Thou art my love,
And thou art a skull with ruby eyes,
And I love thee--
Woe is me.
Thou art my love,
And I doubt thee.
And if peace came with thy murder
Then would I murder--
Woe is me.
Thou art my love,
And thou art death,
Aye, thou art death
Black and yet black,
But I love thee,
I love thee--
Woe, welcome woe, to me.
Love, forgive me if I wish you grief,
For in your grief
You huddle to my breast,
And for it
Would I pay the price of your grief.
You walk among men
And all men do not surrender,
And thus I understand
That love reaches his hand
In mercy to me.
He had your picture in his room,
A scurvy traitor picture,
And he smiled
--Merely a fat complacence of men who
know fine women--
And thus I divided with him
A part of my love.
Fool, not to know that thy little shoe
Can make men weep!
--Some men weep.
I weep and I gnash,
And I love the little shoe,
The little, little shoe.
God give me medals,
God give me loud honors,
That I may strut before you, sweetheart,
And be worthy of--
The love I bear you.
Now let me crunch you
With full weight of affrighted love.
I doubted you
--I doubted you--
And in this short doubting
My love grew like a genie
For my further undoing.
Beware of my friends,
Be not in speech too civil,
For in all courtesy
My weak heart sees spectres,
Mists of desire
Arising from the lips of my chosen;
Be not civil.
The flower I gave thee once
Was incident to a stride,
A detail of a gesture,
But search those pale petals
And see engraven thereon
A record of my intention.
Ah, God, the way your little finger moved,
As you thrust a bare arm backward
And made play with your hair
And a comb, a silly gilt comb
--Ah, God--that I should suffer
Because of the way a little finger moved.
Once I saw thee idly rocking
--Idly rocking--
And chattering girlishly to other girls,
Bell-voiced, happy,
Careless with the stout heart of unscarred
womanhood,
And life to thee was all light melody.
I thought of the great storms of love as I
knew it,
Torn, miserable, and ashamed of my open
sorrow,
I thought of the thunders that lived in my
head,
And I wish to be an ogre,
And hale and haul my beloved to a castle,
And make her mourn with my mourning.
Tell me why, behind thee,
I see always the shadow of another lover?
Is it real,
Or is this the thrice damned memory of a
better happiness?
Plague on him if he be dead,
Plague on him if he be alive--
A swinish numskull
To intrude his shade
Always between me and my peace!
And yet I have seen thee happy with me.
I am no fool
To poll stupidly into iron.
I have heard your quick breaths
And seen your arms writhe toward me;
At those times
--God help us--
I was impelled to be a grand knight,
And swagger and snap my fingers,
And explain my mind finely.
Oh, lost sweetheart,
I would that I had not been a grand knight.
I said: "Sweetheart. "
Thou said'st: "Sweetheart. "
And we preserved an admirable mimicry
Without heeding the drip of the blood
From my heart.
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.
I wonder if sometimes in the dusk,
When the brave lights that gild thy
evenings
Have not yet been touched with flame,
I wonder if sometimes in the dusk
Thou rememberest a time,
A time when thou loved me
And our love was to thee thy all?
Is the memory rubbish now?
An old gown
Worn in an age of other fashions?
Woe is me, oh, lost one,
For that love is now to me
A supernal dream,
White, white, white with many suns.
Love met me at noonday,
--Reckless imp,
To leave his shaded nights
And brave the glare,--
And I saw him then plainly
For a bungler,
A stupid, simpering, eyeless bungler,
Breaking the hearts of brave people
As the snivelling idiot-boy cracks his bowl,
And I cursed him,
Cursed him to and fro, back and forth,
Into all the silly mazes of his mind,
But in the end
He laughed and pointed to my breast,
Where a heart still beat for thee, beloved.
I have seen thy face aflame
For love of me,
Thy fair arms go mad,
Thy lips tremble and mutter and rave.
And--surely--
This should leave a man content?
Thou lovest not me now,
But thou didst love me,
And in loving me once
Thou gavest me an eternal privilege,
For I can think of thee.
End of the Project Gutenberg EBook of War is Kind, by Stephen Crane
*** END OF THIS PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK WAR IS KIND ***
***** This file should be named 9870. txt or 9870. zip *****
This and all associated files of various formats will be found in:
http://www. gutenberg. org/9/8/7/9870/
Produced by an anonymous Project Gutenberg volunteer.
Updated editions will replace the previous one--the old editions
will be renamed.
Creating the works from public domain print editions means that no
one owns a United States copyright in these works, so the Foundation
(and you! ) can copy and distribute it in the United States without
permission and without paying copyright royalties. Special rules,
set forth in the General Terms of Use part of this license, apply to
copying and distributing Project Gutenberg-tm electronic works to
protect the PROJECT GUTENBERG-tm concept and trademark. Project
Gutenberg is a registered trademark, and may not be used if you
charge for the eBooks, unless you receive specific permission. If you
do not charge anything for copies of this eBook, complying with the
rules is very easy. You may use this eBook for nearly any purpose
such as creation of derivative works, reports, performances and
research. They may be modified and printed and given away--you may do
practically ANYTHING with public domain eBooks. Redistribution is
subject to the trademark license, especially commercial
redistribution.
*** START: FULL LICENSE ***
THE FULL PROJECT GUTENBERG LICENSE
PLEASE READ THIS BEFORE YOU DISTRIBUTE OR USE THIS WORK
To protect the Project Gutenberg-tm mission of promoting the free
distribution of electronic works, by using or distributing this work
(or any other work associated in any way with the phrase "Project
Gutenberg"), you agree to comply with all the terms of the Full Project
Gutenberg-tm License (available with this file or online at
http://gutenberg. net/license).
Section 1. General Terms of Use and Redistributing Project Gutenberg-tm
electronic works
1. A. By reading or using any part of this Project Gutenberg-tm
electronic work, you indicate that you have read, understand, agree to
and accept all the terms of this license and intellectual property
(trademark/copyright) agreement. If you do not agree to abide by all
the terms of this agreement, you must cease using and return or destroy
all copies of Project Gutenberg-tm electronic works in your possession.
If you paid a fee for obtaining a copy of or access to a Project
Gutenberg-tm electronic work and you do not agree to be bound by the
terms of this agreement, you may obtain a refund from the person or
entity to whom you paid the fee as set forth in paragraph 1. E. 8.
1. B. "Project Gutenberg" is a registered trademark. It may only be
used on or associated in any way with an electronic work by people who
agree to be bound by the terms of this agreement. There are a few
things that you can do with most Project Gutenberg-tm electronic works
even without complying with the full terms of this agreement. See
paragraph 1. C below. There are a lot of things you can do with Project
Gutenberg-tm electronic works if you follow the terms of this agreement
and help preserve free future access to Project Gutenberg-tm electronic
works. See paragraph 1. E below.
1. C. The Project Gutenberg Literary Archive Foundation ("the Foundation"
or PGLAF), owns a compilation copyright in the collection of Project
Gutenberg-tm electronic works. Nearly all the individual works in the
collection are in the public domain in the United States.
active links or immediate access to the full terms of the Project
Gutenberg(TM) License.
*1. E. 6. * You may convert to and distribute this work in any binary,
compressed, marked up, nonproprietary or proprietary form, including any
word processing or hypertext form. However, if you provide access to or
distribute copies of a Project Gutenberg(TM) work in a format other than
"Plain Vanilla ASCII" or other format used in the official version
posted on the official Project Gutenberg(TM) web site
(http://www. gutenberg. org), you must, at no additional cost, fee or
expense to the user, provide a copy, a means of exporting a copy, or a
means of obtaining a copy upon request, of the work in its original
"Plain Vanilla ASCII" or other form. Any alternate format must include
the full Project Gutenberg(TM) License as specified in paragraph 1. E. 1.
*1. E. 7. * Do not charge a fee for access to, viewing, displaying,
performing, copying or distributing any Project Gutenberg(TM) works unless
you comply with paragraph 1. E. 8 or 1. E. 9.
*1. E. 8. * You may charge a reasonable fee for copies of or providing
access to or distributing Project Gutenberg(TM) electronic works provided
that
- You pay a royalty fee of 20% of the gross profits you derive from
the use of Project Gutenberg(TM) works calculated using the method you
already use to calculate your applicable taxes. The fee is owed to
the owner of the Project Gutenberg(TM) trademark, but he has agreed to
donate royalties under this paragraph to the Project Gutenberg
Literary Archive Foundation. Royalty payments must be paid within 60
days following each date on which you prepare (or are legally
required to prepare) your periodic tax returns. Royalty payments
should be clearly marked as such and sent to the Project Gutenberg
Literary Archive Foundation at the address specified in Section 4,
"Information about donations to the Project Gutenberg Literary
Archive Foundation. "
- You provide a full refund of any money paid by a user who notifies
you in writing (or by e-mail) within 30 days of receipt that s/he
does not agree to the terms of the full Project Gutenberg(TM) License.
You must require such a user to return or destroy all copies of the
works possessed in a physical medium and discontinue all use of and
all access to other copies of Project Gutenberg(TM) works.
- You provide, in accordance with paragraph 1. F. 3, a full refund of
any money paid for a work or a replacement copy, if a defect in the
electronic work is discovered and reported to you within 90 days of
receipt of the work.
- You comply with all other terms of this agreement for free
distribution of Project Gutenberg(TM) works.
*1. E. 9. * If you wish to charge a fee or distribute a Project Gutenberg(TM)
electronic work or group of works on different terms than are set forth
in this agreement, you must obtain permission in writing from both the
Project Gutenberg Literary Archive Foundation and Michael Hart, the
owner of the Project Gutenberg(TM) trademark. Contact the Foundation as set
forth in Section 3. below.
*1. F. *
*1. F. 1. * Project Gutenberg volunteers and employees expend considerable
effort to identify, do copyright research on, transcribe and proofread
public domain works in creating the Project Gutenberg(TM) collection.
Despite these efforts, Project Gutenberg(TM) electronic works, and the
medium on which they may be stored, may contain "Defects," such as, but
not limited to, incomplete, inaccurate or corrupt data, transcription
errors, a copyright or other intellectual property infringement, a
defective or damaged disk or other medium, a computer virus, or computer
codes that damage or cannot be read by your equipment.
*1. F. 2. * LIMITED WARRANTY, DISCLAIMER OF DAMAGES - Except for the "Right
of Replacement or Refund" described in paragraph 1. F. 3, the Project
Gutenberg Literary Archive Foundation, the owner of the Project
Gutenberg(TM) trademark, and any other party distributing a Project
Gutenberg(TM) electronic work under this agreement, disclaim all liability
to you for damages, costs and expenses, including legal fees. YOU AGREE
THAT YOU HAVE NO REMEDIES FOR NEGLIGENCE, STRICT LIABILITY, BREACH OF
WARRANTY OR BREACH OF CONTRACT EXCEPT THOSE PROVIDED IN PARAGRAPH 1. F. 3.
YOU AGREE THAT THE FOUNDATION, THE TRADEMARK OWNER, AND ANY DISTRIBUTOR
UNDER THIS AGREEMENT WILL NOT BE LIABLE TO YOU FOR ACTUAL, DIRECT,
INDIRECT, CONSEQUENTIAL, PUNITIVE OR INCIDENTAL DAMAGES EVEN IF YOU GIVE
NOTICE OF THE POSSIBILITY OF SUCH DAMAGE.
*1. F. 3. * LIMITED RIGHT OF REPLACEMENT OR REFUND - If you discover a
defect in this electronic work within 90 days of receiving it, you can
receive a refund of the money (if any) you paid for it by sending a
written explanation to the person you received the work from. If you
received the work on a physical medium, you must return the medium with
your written explanation. The person or entity that provided you with
the defective work may elect to provide a replacement copy in lieu of a
refund. If you received the work electronically, the person or entity
providing it to you may choose to give you a second opportunity to
receive the work electronically in lieu of a refund. If the second copy
is also defective, you may demand a refund in writing without further
opportunities to fix the problem.
*1. F. 4. * Except for the limited right of replacement or refund set forth
in paragraph 1. F. 3, this work is provided to you 'AS-IS,' WITH NO OTHER
WARRANTIES OF ANY KIND, EXPRESS OR IMPLIED, INCLUDING BUT NOT LIMITED TO
WARRANTIES OF MERCHANTIBILITY OR FITNESS FOR ANY PURPOSE.
*1. F. 5. * Some states do not allow disclaimers of certain implied
warranties or the exclusion or limitation of certain types of damages.
If any disclaimer or limitation set forth in this agreement violates the
law of the state applicable to this agreement, the agreement shall be
interpreted to make the maximum disclaimer or limitation permitted by
the applicable state law. The invalidity or unenforceability of any
provision of this agreement shall not void the remaining provisions.
*1. F. 6. * INDEMNITY - You agree to indemnify and hold the Foundation, the
trademark owner, any agent or employee of the Foundation, anyone
providing copies of Project Gutenberg(TM) electronic works in accordance
with this agreement, and any volunteers associated with the production,
promotion and distribution of Project Gutenberg(TM) electronic works,
harmless from all liability, costs and expenses, including legal fees,
that arise directly or indirectly from any of the following which you do
or cause to occur: (a) distribution of this or any Project Gutenberg(TM)
work, (b) alteration, modification, or additions or deletions to any
Project Gutenberg(TM) work, and (c) any Defect you cause.
Section 2. Information about the Mission of Project Gutenberg(TM)
Project Gutenberg(TM) is synonymous with the free distribution of
electronic works in formats readable by the widest variety of computers
including obsolete, old, middle-aged and new computers. It exists
because of the efforts of hundreds of volunteers and donations from
people in all walks of life.
Volunteers and financial support to provide volunteers with the
assistance they need, is critical to reaching Project Gutenberg(TM)'s goals
and ensuring that the Project Gutenberg(TM) collection will remain freely
available for generations to come. In 2001, the Project Gutenberg
Literary Archive Foundation was created to provide a secure and
permanent future for Project Gutenberg(TM) and future generations. To learn
more about the Project Gutenberg Literary Archive Foundation and how
your efforts and donations can help, see Sections 3 and 4 and the
Foundation web page at http://www. pglaf. org .
Section 3. Information about the Project Gutenberg Literary Archive
Foundation
The Project Gutenberg Literary Archive Foundation is a non profit
501(c)(3) educational corporation organized under the laws of the state
of Mississippi and granted tax exempt status by the Internal Revenue
Service. The Foundation's EIN or federal tax identification number is
64-6221541. Its 501(c)(3) letter is posted at
http://www. gutenberg. org/fundraising/pglaf . Contributions to the
Project Gutenberg Literary Archive Foundation are tax deductible to the
full extent permitted by U. S. federal laws and your state's laws.
The Foundation's principal office is located at 4557 Melan Dr.
S. Fairbanks, AK, 99712. , but its volunteers and employees are scattered
throughout numerous locations. Its business office is located at 809
North 1500 West, Salt Lake City, UT 84116, (801) 596-1887, email
business@pglaf. org. Email contact links and up to date contact
information can be found at the Foundation's web site and official page
at http://www. pglaf. org
For additional contact information:
Dr. Gregory B. Newby
Chief Executive and Director
gbnewby@pglaf. org
Section 4. Information about Donations to the Project Gutenberg Literary
Archive Foundation
Project Gutenberg(TM) depends upon and cannot survive without wide spread
public support and donations to carry out its mission of increasing the
number of public domain and licensed works that can be freely
distributed in machine readable form accessible by the widest array of
equipment including outdated equipment. Many small donations ($1 to
$5,000) are particularly important to maintaining tax exempt status with
the IRS.
The Foundation is committed to complying with the laws regulating
charities and charitable donations in all 50 states of the United
States. Compliance requirements are not uniform and it takes a
considerable effort, much paperwork and many fees to meet and keep up
with these requirements. We do not solicit donations in locations where
we have not received written confirmation of compliance. To SEND
DONATIONS or determine the status of compliance for any particular state
visit http://www. gutenberg. org/fundraising/donate
While we cannot and do not solicit contributions from states where we
have not met the solicitation requirements, we know of no prohibition
against accepting unsolicited donations from donors in such states who
approach us with offers to donate.
International donations are gratefully accepted, but we cannot make any
statements concerning tax treatment of donations received from outside
the United States. U. S. laws alone swamp our small staff.
Please check the Project Gutenberg Web pages for current donation
methods and addresses. Donations are accepted in a number of other ways
including checks, online payments and credit card donations. To donate,
please visit: http://www. gutenberg. org/fundraising/donate
Section 5. General Information About Project Gutenberg(TM) electronic
works.
Professor Michael S. Hart is the originator of the Project Gutenberg(TM)
concept of a library of electronic works that could be freely shared
with anyone. For thirty years, he produced and distributed Project
Gutenberg(TM) eBooks with only a loose network of volunteer support.
Project Gutenberg(TM) eBooks are often created from several printed
editions, all of which are confirmed as Public Domain in the U. S. unless
a copyright notice is included. Thus, we do not necessarily keep eBooks
in compliance with any particular paper edition.
Each eBook is in a subdirectory of the same number as the eBook's eBook
number, often in several formats including plain vanilla ASCII,
compressed (zipped), HTML and others.
Corrected _editions_ of our eBooks replace the old file and take over
the old filename and etext number. The replaced older file is renamed.
_Versions_ based on separate sources are treated as new eBooks receiving
new filenames and etext numbers.
Most people start at our Web site which has the main PG search facility:
http://www. gutenberg. org
This Web site includes information about Project Gutenberg(TM), including
how to make donations to the Project Gutenberg Literary Archive
Foundation, how to help produce our new eBooks, and how to subscribe to
our email newsletter to hear about new eBooks.
? The Project Gutenberg EBook of War is Kind, by Stephen Crane
This eBook is for the use of anyone anywhere at no cost and with
almost no restrictions whatsoever. You may copy it, give it away or
re-use it under the terms of the Project Gutenberg License included
with this eBook or online at www. gutenberg. net
Title: War is Kind
Author: Stephen Crane
Release Date: October 24, 2011 [EBook #9870]
Language: English
*** START OF THIS PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK WAR IS KIND ***
Produced by an anonymous Project Gutenberg volunteer.
WAR IS KIND
by Stephen Crane
Drawings by Will Bradley
1899
Do not weep, maiden, for war is kind.
Because your lover threw wild hands toward the sky
And the affrighted steed ran on alone,
Do not weep.
War is kind.
Hoarse, booming drums of the
regiment,
Little souls who thirst for fight,
These men were born to drill and die.
The unexplained glory files above
them,
Great is the battle-god, great, and his
kingdom--
A field where a thousand corpses lie.
Do not weep, babe, for war is kind.
Because your father tumbled in the yellow
trenches,
Raged at his breast, gulped and died,
Do not weep.
War is kind.
Swift blazing flag of the regiment,
Eagle with crest of red and gold,
These men were born to drill and die.
Point for them the virtue of the slaughter,
Make plain to them the excellence of killing
And a field where a thousand corpses
lie.
Mother whose heart hung humble as a button
On the bright splendid shroud of your son,
Do not weep.
War is kind.
What says the sea, little shell?
"What says the sea?
"Long has our brother been silent to us,
"Kept his message for the ships,
"Awkward ships, stupid ships. "
"The sea bids you mourn, O Pines,
"Sing low in the moonlight.
"He sends tale of the land of doom,
"Of place where endless falls
"A rain of women's tears,
"And men in grey robes--
"Men in grey robes--
"Chant the unknown pain. "
"What says the sea, little shell?
"What says the sea?
"Long has our brother been silent to us,
"Kept is message for the ships,
"Puny ships, silly ships. "
"The sea bids you teach, O Pines,
"Sing low in the moonlight;
"Teach the gold of patience,
"Cry gospel of gentle hands,
"Cry a brotherhood of hearts.
"The sea bids you teach, O Pines. "
"And where is the reward, little shell?
"What says the sea?
"Long has our brother been silent to us,
"Kept his message for the ships,
"Puny ships, silly ships. "
"No word says the sea, O Pines,
"No word says the sea.
"Long will your brother be silent to you,
"Keep his message for the ships,
"O puny ships, silly pines. "
To the maiden
The sea was blue meadow,
Alive with little froth-people
Singing.
To the sailor, wrecked,
The sea was dead grey walls
Superlative in vacancy,
Upon which nevertheless at fateful time
Was written
The grim hatred of nature.
A little ink more or less!
It surely can't matter?
Even the sky and the opulent sea,
The plains and the hills, aloof,
Hear the uproar of all these books.
But it is only a little ink more or less.
What?
You define me God with these trinkets?
Can my misery meal on an ordered walking
Of surpliced numskulls?
And a fanfare of lights?
Or even upon the measured pulpitings
Of the familiar false and true?
Is this God?
Where, then is hell?
Show me some bastard mushrooms
Sprung from a pollution of blood.
It is better.
Where is God?
"Have you ever made a just man? "
"Oh, I have made three," answered
God,
"But two of them are dead,
"And the third--
"Listen! Listen!
"And you will hear the thud of his defeat. "
I explain the silvered passing of a ship
at night,
The sweep of each sad lost wave,
The dwindling boom of the steel thing's striving,
The little cry of a man to a man,
A shadow falling across the greyer night,
And the sinking of the small star;
Then the waste, the far waste of waters,
And the soft lashing of black waves
For long and in loneliness.
Remember, thou, O ship of love,
Thou leavest a far waste of waters,
And the soft lashing of black waves
For long and in loneliness.
"I have heard the sunset song of the
birches,
"A white melody in the silence,
"I have seen a quarrel of the pines.
"At nightfall
"The little grasses have rushed by me
"With the wind men.
"These things have I lived," quoth the
maniac,
"Possessing only eyes and ears.
"But you--
"You don green spectacles before you look at roses. "
Fast rode the knight
With spurs, hot and reeking,
Ever waving an eager sword,
"To save my lady! "
Fast rode the knight,
And leaped from saddle to war.
Men of steel flickered and gleamed
Like riot of silver lights,
And the gold of the knight's good banner
Still waved on a castle wall.
. . . . . . .
A horse,
Blowing, staggering, bloody thing,
Forgotten at foot of castle wall.
A horse
Dead at foot of castle wall.
Forth went the candid man
And spoke freely to the wind--
When he looked about him he was in a far
strange country.
Forth went the candid man
And spoke freely to the stars--
Yellow light tore sight from his eye.
"My good fool," said a learned bystander,
"Your operations are mad. "
"You are too candid," cried the candid man.
And when his stick left the head of the
learned bystander
It was two sticks.
You tell me this is God?
I tell you this is a printed list,
A burning candle and an ass.
On the desert
A silence from the moon's deepest
valley.
Fire rays fall athwart the robes
Of hooded men, squat and dumb.
Before them, a woman
Moves to the blowing of shrill whistles
And distant thunder of drums,
While mystic things, sinuous, dull with
terrible color,
Sleepily fondle her body
Or move at her will, swishing stealthily over
the sand.
The snakes whisper softly;
The whispering, whispering snakes,
Dreaming and swaying and staring,
But always whispering, softly whispering.
The wind streams from the lone reaches
Of Arabia, solemn with night,
And the wild fire makes shimmer of blood
Over the robes of the hooded men
Squat and dumb.
Bands of moving bronze, emerald, yellow,
Circle the throat and arms of her,
And over the sands serpents move warily
Slow, menacing and submissive,
Swinging to the whistles and drums,
The whispering, whispering snakes,
Dreaming and swaying and staring,
But always whispering, softly whispering.
The dignity of the accursed;
The glory of slavery, despair, death,
Is in the dance of the whispering snakes.
A newspaper is a collection of half-injustices
Which, bawled by boys from mile to mile,
Spreads its curious opinion
To a million merciful and sneering men,
While families cuddle the joys of the fireside
When spurred by tale of dire lone agony.
A newspaper is a court
Where every one is kindly and unfairly tried
By a squalor of honest men.
A newspaper is a market
Where wisdom sells its freedom
And melons are crowned by the crowd.
A newspaper is a game
Where his error scores the player victory
While another's skill wins death.
A newspaper is a symbol;
It is fetless life's chronical,
A collection of loud tales
Concentrating eternal stupidities,
That in remote ages lived unhaltered,
Roaming through a fenceless world.
The wayfarer,
Perceiving the pathway to truth,
Was struck with astonishment.
It was thickly grown with weeds.
"Ha," he said,
"I see that none has passed here
"In a long time. "
Later he saw that each weed
Was a singular knife.
"Well," he mumbled at last,
"Doubtless there are other roads. "
A slant of sun on dull brown walls,
A forgotten sky of bashful blue.
Toward God a mighty hymn,
A song of collisions and cries,
Rumbling wheels, hoof-beats, bells,
Welcomes, farewells, love-calls, final moans,
Voices of joy, idiocy, warning, despair,
The unknown appeals of brutes,
The chanting of flowers,
The screams of cut trees,
The senseless babble of hens and wise men--
A cluttered incoherency that says at the
stars;
"O God, save us! "
Once a man clambering to the housetops
Appealed to the heavens.
With a strong voice he called to the deaf
spheres;
A warrior's shout he raised to the suns.
Lo, at last, there was a dot on the clouds,
And--at last and at last--
--God--the sky was filled with armies.
There was a man with tongue of wood
Who essayed to sing,
And in truth it was lamentable.
But there was one who heard
The clip-clapper of this tongue of wood
And knew what the man
Wished to sing,
And with that the singer was content.
The successful man has thrust himself
Through the water of the years,
Reeking wet with mistakes,--
Bloody mistakes;
Slimed with victories over the lesser,
A figure thankful on the shore of money.
Then, with the bones of fools
He buys silken banners
Limned with his triumphant face;
With the skins of wise men
He buys the trivial bows of all.
Flesh painted with marrow
Contributes a coverlet,
A coverlet for his contented slumber.
In guiltless ignorance, in ignorant guilt,
He delivered his secrets to the riven multitude.
"Thus I defended: Thus I wrought. "
Complacent, smiling,
He stands heavily on the dead.
Erect on a pillar of skulls
He declaims his trampling of babes;
Smirking, fat, dripping,
He makes speech in guiltless ignorance,
Innocence.
In the night
Grey heavy clouds muffled the valleys,
And the peaks looked toward God alone.
"O Master that movest the wind with a
finger,
"Humble, idle, futile peaks are we.
"Grant that we may run swiftly across
the world
"To huddle in worship at Thy feet. "
In the morning
A noise of men at work came the clear blue miles,
And the little black cities were apparent.
"O Master that knowest the meaning of raindrops,
"Humble, idle, futile peaks are we.
"Give voice to us, we pray, O Lord,
"That we may sing Thy goodness to the sun. "
In the evening
The far valleys were sprinkled with tiny lights.
"O Master,
"Thou that knowest the value of kings and birds,
"Thou hast made us humble, idle, futile peaks.
"Thous only needest eternal patience;
"We bow to Thy wisdom, O Lord--
"Humble, idle, futile peaks. "
In the night
Grey heavy clouds muffles the valleys,
And the peaks looked toward God alone.
The chatter of a death-demon from a tree-top.
Blood--blood and torn grass--
Had marked the rise of his agony--
This lone hunter.
The grey-green woods impassive
Had watched the threshing of his limbs.
A canoe with flashing paddle,
A girl with soft searching eyes,
A call: "John! "
. . . . . . .
Come, arise, hunter!
Can you not hear?
The chatter of a death-demon from a tree-
top.
The impact of a dollar upon the heart
Smiles warm red light,
Sweeping from the hearth rosily upon the
white table,
With the hanging cool velvet shadows
Moving softly upon the door.
The impact of a million dollars
Is a crash of flunkys,
And yawning emblems of Persia
Cheeked against oak, France and a sabre,
The outcry of old beauty
Whored by pimping merchants
To submission before wine and chatter.
Silly rich peasants stamp the carpets of men,
Dead men who dreamed fragrance and light
Into their woof, their lives;
The rug of an honest bear
Under the feet of a cryptic slave
Who speaks always of baubles,
Forgetting state, multitude, work, and state,
Champing and mouthing of hats,
Making ratful squeak of hats,
Hats.
A man said to the universe:
"Sir, I exist! "
"However," replied the universe,
"The fact has not created in me
"A sense of obligation. "
When the prophet, a complacent fat
man,
Arrived at the mountain-top,
He cried: "Woe to my knowledge!
"I intended to see good white lands
"And bad black lands,
"But the scene is grey. "
There was a land where lived no
violets.
A traveller at once demanded: "Why? "
The people told him:
"Once the violets of this place spoke thus:
"'Until some woman freely give her lover
"'To another woman
"'We will fight in bloody scuffle. '"
Sadly the people added:
"There are no violets here. "
There was one I met upon the road
Who looked at me with kind eyes.
He said: "Show me of your wares. "
And I did,
Holding forth one,
He said: "It is a sin. "
Then I held forth another.
He said: "It is a sin. "
Then I held forth another.
He said: "It is a sin. "
And so to the end.
Always He said: "It is a sin. "
At last, I cried out:
"But I have non other. "
He looked at me
With kinder eyes.
"Poor soul," he said.
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.
Each small gleam was a voice,
A lantern voice--
In little songs of carmine, violet, green, gold.
A chorus of colors came over the water;
The wondrous leaf-shadow no longer wavered,
No pines crooned on the hills,
The blue night was elsewhere a silence,
When the chorus of colors came over the
water,
Little songs of carmine, violet, green, gold.
Small glowing pebbles
Thrown on the dark plane of evening
Sing good ballads of God
And eternity, with soul's rest.
Little priests, little holy fathers,
None can doubt the truth of hour hymning.
When the marvellous chorus comes over the
water,
Songs of carmine, violet, green, gold.
The trees in the garden rained flowers.
Children ran there joyously.
They gathered the flowers
Each to himself.
Now there were some
Who gathered great heaps--
Having opportunity and skill--
Until, behold, only chance blossoms
Remained for the feeble.
Then a little spindling tutor
Ran importantly to the father, crying:
"Pray, come hither!
"See this unjust thing in your garden! "
But when the father had surveyed,
He admonished the tutor:
"Not so, small sage!
"This thing is just.
"For, look you,
"Are not they who possess the flowers
"Stronger, bolder, shrewder
"Than they who have none?
"Why should the strong--
"The beautiful strong--
"Why should they not have the flowers?
Upon reflection, the tutor bowed to the
ground.
"My lord," he said,
"The stars are displaced
"By this towering wisdom. "
INTRIGUE
Thou art my love,
And thou art the peace of sundown
When the blue shadows soothe,
And the grasses and the leaves sleep
To the song of the little brooks,
Woe is me.
Thou art my love,
And thou art a strorm
That breaks black in the sky,
And, sweeping headlong,
Drenches and cowers each tree,
And at the panting end
There is no sound
Save the melancholy cry of a single owl--
Woe is me!
Thou are my love,
And thou art a tinsel thing,
And I in my play
Broke thee easily,
And from the little fragments
Arose my long sorrow--
Woe is me.
Thou art my love,
And thou art a wary violet,
Drooping from sun-caresses,
Answering mine carelessly--
Woe is me.
Thou art my love,
And thou art the ashes of other men's love,
And I bury my face in these ashes,
And I love them--
Woe is me.
Thou art my love,
And thou art the beard
On another man's face--
Woe is me.
Thou art my love,
And thou art a temple,
And in this temple is an altar,
And on this altar is my heart--
Woe is me.
Thou art my love,
And thou art a wretch.
Let these sacred love-lies choke thee,
From I am come to where I know your lies
as truth
And you truth as lies--
Woe is me.
Thou art my love,
And thou art a priestess,
And in they hand is a bloody dagger,
And my doom comes to me surely--
Woe is me.
Thou art my love,
And thou art a skull with ruby eyes,
And I love thee--
Woe is me.
Thou art my love,
And I doubt thee.
And if peace came with thy murder
Then would I murder--
Woe is me.
Thou art my love,
And thou art death,
Aye, thou art death
Black and yet black,
But I love thee,
I love thee--
Woe, welcome woe, to me.
Love, forgive me if I wish you grief,
For in your grief
You huddle to my breast,
And for it
Would I pay the price of your grief.
You walk among men
And all men do not surrender,
And thus I understand
That love reaches his hand
In mercy to me.
He had your picture in his room,
A scurvy traitor picture,
And he smiled
--Merely a fat complacence of men who
know fine women--
And thus I divided with him
A part of my love.
Fool, not to know that thy little shoe
Can make men weep!
--Some men weep.
I weep and I gnash,
And I love the little shoe,
The little, little shoe.
God give me medals,
God give me loud honors,
That I may strut before you, sweetheart,
And be worthy of--
The love I bear you.
Now let me crunch you
With full weight of affrighted love.
I doubted you
--I doubted you--
And in this short doubting
My love grew like a genie
For my further undoing.
Beware of my friends,
Be not in speech too civil,
For in all courtesy
My weak heart sees spectres,
Mists of desire
Arising from the lips of my chosen;
Be not civil.
The flower I gave thee once
Was incident to a stride,
A detail of a gesture,
But search those pale petals
And see engraven thereon
A record of my intention.
Ah, God, the way your little finger moved,
As you thrust a bare arm backward
And made play with your hair
And a comb, a silly gilt comb
--Ah, God--that I should suffer
Because of the way a little finger moved.
Once I saw thee idly rocking
--Idly rocking--
And chattering girlishly to other girls,
Bell-voiced, happy,
Careless with the stout heart of unscarred
womanhood,
And life to thee was all light melody.
I thought of the great storms of love as I
knew it,
Torn, miserable, and ashamed of my open
sorrow,
I thought of the thunders that lived in my
head,
And I wish to be an ogre,
And hale and haul my beloved to a castle,
And make her mourn with my mourning.
Tell me why, behind thee,
I see always the shadow of another lover?
Is it real,
Or is this the thrice damned memory of a
better happiness?
Plague on him if he be dead,
Plague on him if he be alive--
A swinish numskull
To intrude his shade
Always between me and my peace!
And yet I have seen thee happy with me.
I am no fool
To poll stupidly into iron.
I have heard your quick breaths
And seen your arms writhe toward me;
At those times
--God help us--
I was impelled to be a grand knight,
And swagger and snap my fingers,
And explain my mind finely.
Oh, lost sweetheart,
I would that I had not been a grand knight.
I said: "Sweetheart. "
Thou said'st: "Sweetheart. "
And we preserved an admirable mimicry
Without heeding the drip of the blood
From my heart.
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.
I wonder if sometimes in the dusk,
When the brave lights that gild thy
evenings
Have not yet been touched with flame,
I wonder if sometimes in the dusk
Thou rememberest a time,
A time when thou loved me
And our love was to thee thy all?
Is the memory rubbish now?
An old gown
Worn in an age of other fashions?
Woe is me, oh, lost one,
For that love is now to me
A supernal dream,
White, white, white with many suns.
Love met me at noonday,
--Reckless imp,
To leave his shaded nights
And brave the glare,--
And I saw him then plainly
For a bungler,
A stupid, simpering, eyeless bungler,
Breaking the hearts of brave people
As the snivelling idiot-boy cracks his bowl,
And I cursed him,
Cursed him to and fro, back and forth,
Into all the silly mazes of his mind,
But in the end
He laughed and pointed to my breast,
Where a heart still beat for thee, beloved.
I have seen thy face aflame
For love of me,
Thy fair arms go mad,
Thy lips tremble and mutter and rave.
And--surely--
This should leave a man content?
Thou lovest not me now,
But thou didst love me,
And in loving me once
Thou gavest me an eternal privilege,
For I can think of thee.
End of the Project Gutenberg EBook of War is Kind, by Stephen Crane
*** END OF THIS PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK WAR IS KIND ***
***** This file should be named 9870. txt or 9870. zip *****
This and all associated files of various formats will be found in:
http://www. gutenberg. org/9/8/7/9870/
Produced by an anonymous Project Gutenberg volunteer.
Updated editions will replace the previous one--the old editions
will be renamed.
Creating the works from public domain print editions means that no
one owns a United States copyright in these works, so the Foundation
(and you! ) can copy and distribute it in the United States without
permission and without paying copyright royalties. Special rules,
set forth in the General Terms of Use part of this license, apply to
copying and distributing Project Gutenberg-tm electronic works to
protect the PROJECT GUTENBERG-tm concept and trademark. Project
Gutenberg is a registered trademark, and may not be used if you
charge for the eBooks, unless you receive specific permission. If you
do not charge anything for copies of this eBook, complying with the
rules is very easy. You may use this eBook for nearly any purpose
such as creation of derivative works, reports, performances and
research. They may be modified and printed and given away--you may do
practically ANYTHING with public domain eBooks. Redistribution is
subject to the trademark license, especially commercial
redistribution.
*** START: FULL LICENSE ***
THE FULL PROJECT GUTENBERG LICENSE
PLEASE READ THIS BEFORE YOU DISTRIBUTE OR USE THIS WORK
To protect the Project Gutenberg-tm mission of promoting the free
distribution of electronic works, by using or distributing this work
(or any other work associated in any way with the phrase "Project
Gutenberg"), you agree to comply with all the terms of the Full Project
Gutenberg-tm License (available with this file or online at
http://gutenberg. net/license).
Section 1. General Terms of Use and Redistributing Project Gutenberg-tm
electronic works
1. A. By reading or using any part of this Project Gutenberg-tm
electronic work, you indicate that you have read, understand, agree to
and accept all the terms of this license and intellectual property
(trademark/copyright) agreement. If you do not agree to abide by all
the terms of this agreement, you must cease using and return or destroy
all copies of Project Gutenberg-tm electronic works in your possession.
If you paid a fee for obtaining a copy of or access to a Project
Gutenberg-tm electronic work and you do not agree to be bound by the
terms of this agreement, you may obtain a refund from the person or
entity to whom you paid the fee as set forth in paragraph 1. E. 8.
1. B. "Project Gutenberg" is a registered trademark. It may only be
used on or associated in any way with an electronic work by people who
agree to be bound by the terms of this agreement. There are a few
things that you can do with most Project Gutenberg-tm electronic works
even without complying with the full terms of this agreement. See
paragraph 1. C below. There are a lot of things you can do with Project
Gutenberg-tm electronic works if you follow the terms of this agreement
and help preserve free future access to Project Gutenberg-tm electronic
works. See paragraph 1. E below.
1. C. The Project Gutenberg Literary Archive Foundation ("the Foundation"
or PGLAF), owns a compilation copyright in the collection of Project
Gutenberg-tm electronic works. Nearly all the individual works in the
collection are in the public domain in the United States.
