Crumbs To The Birds

________________________________________________
Title:     Crumbs To The Birds
Author: Charles Lamb [More Titles by Lamb]

A bird appears a thoughtless thing,
He's ever living on the wing,
And keeps up such a carolling,
That little else to do but sing
A man would guess had he.

No doubt he has his little cares,
And very hard he often fares,
The which so patiently he bears,
That, list'ning to those cheerful airs,
Who knows but he may be

In want of his next meal of seeds?
I think for _that_ his sweet song pleads.
If so, his pretty art succeeds.
I'll scatter there among the weeds
All the small crumbs I see.

[The end]
Charles Lamb's poem: Crumbs To The Birds

________________________________________________



GO TO TOP OF SCREEN