ONCE I saw mountains angry,
And ranged in battle-front.
Against them stood a little man;
Ay, he was no bigger than my finger.
I laughed, and spoke to one near me,
-Will he prevail?â?
-Surely,â? replied this other;
-His grandfathers beat them many times.â?
Then did I see much virtue in grandfathers,-
At least, for the little man
Who stood against the mountains.
Ancestry
Stephen Crane
(1)
Poem topics: battle, finger, angry, Print This Poem , Rhyme Scheme
Submit Spanish Translation
Submit German Translation
Submit French Translation
Write your comment about Ancestry poem by Stephen Crane
Best Poems of Stephen Crane