Once, I knew a fine song,
-- It is true, believe me --
It was all of birds,
And I held them in a basket;
When I opened the wicket,
Heavens! They all flew away.
I cried, "Come back, little thoughts!"
But they only laughed.
They flew on
Until they were as sand
Thrown between me and the sky.
More verses by Stephen Crane
- Friend, Your White Beard Sweeps The Ground
- The Sage Lectured Brilliantly
- In A Lonely Place
- Why Do You Strive For Greatness, Fool?
- There Was, Before Me,