Men, Women, and Boats, The Black Riders and Other Lines & The O'Ruddy

The Black Riders and Other Lines is a book of poetry written by American author Stephen Crane (1871–1900). It was first published in 1895 by Copeland & Day.

Black riders came from the sea.
Three little birds in a row
In the Desert
Yes, I have a thousand tongues
Once there came a man
God fashioned the ship of the world carefully
Mystic shadow, bending near me,
I looked here
I stood upon a high place,
Should the wide world roll away,
In a lonely place,
"And the sins of the fathers shall be"
If there is a witness to my little life,
There was a crimson clash of war.
"Tell brave deeds of war."
There were many who went in huddled procession
In heaven
A god in wrath
A learned man came to me once
There was, before me
Once I saw mountains angry
Places among the stars
I saw a man pursuing the horizon
Behold, the grave of a wicked man
There was set before me a mighty hill
A youth in apparel that glittered
"Truth," said a traveller
Behold, from the land of the farther suns
Supposing that I should have the courage
Many workmen
Two or three angels
There was one I met upon the road
I stood upon a highway
A man saw a ball of gold in the sky
I met a seer
On the horizon the peaks assembled
The ocean said to me once
The livid lightnings flashed in the clouds
And you love me
Love walked alone
I walked in a desert
There came whisperings in the winds
I was in the darkness
Tradition, thou art for suckling children
Many red devils ran from my heart
"Think as I think," said a man
Once there was a man
I stood musing in a black world
You say you are holy
A man went before a strange God
Why do you strive for greatness, fool?
Blustering God
"It was wrong to do this," said the angel
A man toiled on a burning road
A man feared that he might find an assassin
With eye and with gesture
The sage lectured brilliantly
Walking in the sky
Upon the road of my life
There was a man and a woman
There was a man who lived a life of fire
There was a great cathedral
Friend, your white beard sweeps the ground
Once, I knew a fine song
If I should cast off this tattered coat
God lay dead in heaven
A spirit sped