There was in a country of old
A mighty giant, strong and bold
His feet, bigger than two big dogs
His fingers strong like wooden logs
High up in the mountain, I'm told
Away from the streets and the crowd
In his dark cave he dwelt alone
Feared by all, and fearing none
People trembled at his mere sight
Children, women and men alike
What a big arm, what a great roar!
And what a pride in his furor!
So you must say, he was happy
What is the point of my story?
I shall thus tell you a secret
The tall, tall fellow never slept
He would sometime give it a try
And although he'd never known why
His eyes shut in the depth of night
He'd give it up, not feeling right
But then one day, an ant, curious
Seeing him angry and bilious
Wondered " Golly, what's up in here?"
And climbed all the way to his ear
Feeling an itch, the giant twitched
And threatened "Out! You little witch!"
But the ant crept deeper inside
Whispering "Let's see what you hide"
"Do not look there, minuscule you!
It's not for ants to look into!"
Replied he in an angry slur
But she begged him "Please hear my word"
"For what I see, under your bulk
The very thing that makes you sulk
Depriving you of your slumbers
Is that you frighten great number
Truth to be told, your heart is sweet
But you're hiding in your retreat
For if you scare off more than few
You fear them more than they fear you!"
There was in a country of old
A mighty giant, strong and bold
His feet, bigger than two big dogs
His fingers strong like wooden logs
You will perhaps think it's fancy
'Cause his best friend is an ant, see.
And all the people from the town
Come to visit him in his home
But not at night, of after meals
They wouldn't dare disturb the dreams
Of a mighty giant's mighty sleep!
