Poem by Stephen Crane

* * *

Three little birds in a row
Sat musing.
A man passed near that place.
Then did the little birds nudge each other.

They said, "He thinks he can sing."
They threw back their heads to laugh.
With quaint countenances
They regarded him.
They were very curious,
Those three little birds in a row.

1. Many red devils ran from my heart
2. And you love me
3. I stood upon a highway
4. A little ink more or less!
5. There was set before me a mighty hill

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