Poem by Stephen Crane

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Charity thou art a lie,
A toy of women,
A pleasure of certain men.
In the presence of justice,
Lo, the walls of the temple
Are visible
Through thy form of sudden shadows.

1. To the maiden
2. Two or three angels
3. You tell me this is God?
4. Behold, from the land of the farther suns
5. Many red devils ran from my heart

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