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The Robin's Song
The robin has begun his early song,
His twitterings on the leafless locust bough;
From hour to hour his notes are loud and long,
Unheard since autumn's by-gone days till now.
His twitterings on the leafless locust bough;
From hour to hour his notes are loud and long,
Unheard since autumn's by-gone days till now.
Yet he is there; and calling to his mate;
‘The cot is all unbuilded for our young’;
At early morn, and into evening late,
By each to each from tree to tree is sung;—
‘The cot is all unbuilded for our young’;
At early morn, and into evening late,
By each to each from tree to tree is sung;—
‘The cot is all unbuilded for our young,
The last year's nest will not our offspring hold;
'Tis time for them a new one was begun,
Where winter's left the relics of the old.’
The last year's nest will not our offspring hold;
'Tis time for them a new one was begun,
Where winter's left the relics of the old.’
‘Bring willow twigs, and sticks from out the grove,
And bring the mire, the wet mire from the stream;
These one by one together shall be wove,
And that shall fill and plaster every seam.’
And bring the mire, the wet mire from the stream;
These one by one together shall be wove,
And that shall fill and plaster every seam.’
‘The soft, soft leaves, and shreds shall line, within,
The cradle of our tender, infant brood;
Come, hasten love! 'tis time that we begin,
For now the fields and air all promise food.’
The cradle of our tender, infant brood;
Come, hasten love! 'tis time that we begin,
For now the fields and air all promise food.’
Thus morn and eve he sings his twittering song,
High up upon the slow-leaved locust tree;
And soon their cot new-builded, large and strong,
And safe from harm, upon its top will be.
High up upon the slow-leaved locust tree;
And soon their cot new-builded, large and strong,
And safe from harm, upon its top will be.
Poem No. 553; c. 6 April 1841
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