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I Blustering God, Stamping across the sky With loud swagger, I fear You not. No, though from Your highest heaven You plunge Your spear at my heart, I fear You not. No, not if the blow Is as the lightning blasting a tree, I fear You not, puffing braggart. II If Thou canst see into my heart That I fear Thee not, Thou wilt see why I fear Thee not, And why it is right. So threaten not, Thou, with Thy bloody spears, Else Thy sublime ears shall hear curses. III Withal, there is One whom I fear: I fear to see grief upon that face. Perchance, friend, He is not your God; If so, spit upon Him. By it you will do no profanity. But I -- Ah, sooner would I die Than see tears in those eyes of my soul.
Stephen Crane’s other poems:
