Author Stephen Crane I saw a man pursuing the horizon; Round and round they sped. I was disturbed at this; I accosted the man. "It is futile," I said, "You can never -- " "You lie," he cried, And ran on. Tags running Rate this poem Select ratingGive it 1/5Give it 2/5Give it 3/5Give it 4/5Give it 5/5 No votes yet Rate Reviews Post review No reviews yet. Log in or register to post comments