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Poem by Stephen Crane


* * *


Once I saw mountains angry,
And ranged in battle-front.
Against them stood a little man;
Aye, he was no bigger than my finger.
I laughed, and spoke to one near me,
Will he prevail?
Surely, replied this other;
His grandfathers beat them many times.
Then did I see much virtue in grandfathers --
At least, for the little man
Who stood against the mountains.



Stephen Crane


Stephen Crane's other poems:
  1. There were many who went in huddled procession
  2. Why do you strive for greatness, fool?
  3. The impact of a dollar upon the heart
  4. Once a man clambering to the housetops
  5. In heaven


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