| Edmund Clarence Stedman, ed. (1833–1908). An American Anthology, 1787–1900. 1900. |
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| 1624. The Peaks |
| | | By Stephen Crane |
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| IN the night | |
| Gray, heavy clouds muffled the valleys, | |
| And the peaks looked toward God alone. | |
| “O Master, that movest the wind with a finger, | |
| Humble, idle, futile peaks are we. | 5 |
| Grant that we may run swiftly across the world | |
| To huddle in worship at Thy feet.” | |
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| In the morning | |
| A noise of men at work came the clear blue miles, | |
| And the little black cities were apparent. | 10 |
| “O Master, that knowest the meaning of raindrops, | |
| Humble, idle, futile peaks are we. | |
| Give voice to us, we pray, O Lord, | |
| That we may sing Thy goodness to the sun.” | |
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| In the evening | 15 |
| The far valleys were sprinkled with tiny lights. | |
| “O Master, | |
| Thou that knowest the value of kings and birds, | |
| Thou hast made us humble, idle, futile peaks. | |
| Thou only needest eternal patience; | 20 |
| We bow to Thy wisdom, O Lord— | |
| Humble, idle, futile peaks.” | |
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| In the night | |
| Gray, heavy clouds muffled the valleys, | |
| And the peaks looked toward God alone. | 25 |
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