I stood upon a highway,
And, behold, there came
Many strange peddlers.
To me each one made gestures,
Holding forth little images, saying,
"This is my pattern of God.
Now this is the God I prefer."

But I said, "Hence!
Leave me with mine own,
And take you yours away;
I can't buy of your patterns of God,
The little gods you may rightly prefer."

Added: Jan 31 2004 | Viewed: 5507 times | Comments (0)

Poet: Stephen Crane (Stephen Crane Art)
Poem: 34. I stood upon a highway
Volume: The Black Riders & Other Lines
Year: Published/Written in 1905
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