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I stood musing in a black world

 I stood musing in a black world,
Not knowing where to direct my feet.
And I saw the quick stream of men Pouring ceaselessly, Filled with eager faces, A torrent of desire.
I called to them, "Where do you go? What do you see?" A thousand voices called to me.
A thousand fingers pointed.
"Look! look! There!" I know not of it.
But, lo! In the far sky shone a radiance Ineffable, divine -- A vision painted upon a pall; And sometimes it was, And sometimes it was not.
I hesitated.
Then from the stream Came roaring voices, Impatient: "Look! look! There!" So again I saw, And leaped, unhesitant, And struggled and fumed With outspread clutching fingers.
The hard hills tore my flesh; The ways bit my feet.
At last I looked again.
No radiance in the far sky, Ineffable, divine; No vision painted upon a pall; And always my eyes ached for the light.
Then I cried in despair, "I see nothing! Oh, where do I go?" The torrent turned again its faces: "Look! look! There!" And at the blindness of my spirit They screamed, "Fool! fool! fool!"

Poem by Stephen Crane
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