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.

1. A spirit sped
2. Love walked alone
3. Walking in the sky
4. On the horizon the peaks assembled
5. Two or three angels

Print

2061 Views

Last Poems

To Russian version