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I stood upon a highway

 I stood upon a highway,
And, behold, there came
Many strange peddlers.
To me each one made gestures, Holding forth little images, saying, "This is my pattern of God.
Now this is the God I prefer.
" But I said, "Hence! Leave me with mine own, And take you yours away; I can't buy of your patterns of God, The little gods you may rightly prefer.

by Stephen Crane
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