Stephen Crane

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!'