Crumbs To The Birds

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, listening 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.

by Charles Lamb

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Comments (3)

When I said it was weird that he was gay when he wrote this poem I didn't mean that he shouldn't have because he was gay but that it weirded ME out thinking that a gay man wrote it.
I don't think it was weird at all that he was gay and wrote this poem. I mean.... look at it. I agree, it really does paint a picture, but it also doesn't mention if the runner is of any certain race, or in any certain location or terrain besides a road.
This poem really shows Whitman's ability to paint pictures with his poems. He is so detailed and specific and is able to use that in a beautiful way, not just stating the facts of what he sees. Although it was kind of weird thinking that he was gay when he wrote this poem.