Author Emily Dickinson The mountain sat upon the plainIn his eternal chair,His observation omnifold,His inquest everywhere.The seasons prayed around his knees,Like children round a sire:Grandfather of the days is he,Of dawn the ancestor. Rate this poem Select ratingGive it 1/5Give it 2/5Give it 3/5Give it 4/5Give it 5/5 No votes yet Rate Log in or register to post comments