I met a seer Poem

I met a seer | Poem by Stephen Crane


I met a seer.

He held in his hands
The book of wisdom.

“Sir,” I addressed him,
“Let me read.

“Child — ” he began.

“Sir,” I said,
“Think not that I am a child,
For already I know much
Of that which you hold.

Aye, much.

He smiled.

Then he opened the book
And held it before me.

Strange that I should have grown so suddenly blind.


Stephen Crane – Poet | Academy of American Poets

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