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Blustering God,

i

Blustering God,
Stamping across the sky
With loud swagger,
I fear You not.
No, though from Your highest heaven
You plunge Your spear at my heart,
I fear You not.
No, not if the blow
Is as the lightning blasting a tree,
I fear You not, puffing braggart.

ii

If Thou canst see into my heart
That I fear Thee not,
Thou wilt see why I fear Thee not,
And why it is right.
So threaten not, Thou, with Thy bloody spears,
Else Thy sublime ears shall hear curses.

iii

Withal, there is One whom I fear:
I fear to see grief upon that face.
Perchance, friend, He is not your God;
If so, spit upon Him.
By it you will do no profanity.
But I —
Ah, sooner would I die
Than see tears in those eyes of my soul.

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Comments

  • philophant
    November 27, 2003
    Edit | Reply
    Mercifully, Crane, the "puffing braggart" you describe here is not MY God. Good poem, anyway. This puts the reader in one of those situations....tight, to say the least. Exellente. Bravissimo.