 | Poems of the late George Darley |  |
175
ROBIN'S CROSS.
A little cross,
To tell my loss;
A little bed
To rest my head;
A little tear is all I crave
Upon my very little grave.
To tell my loss;
A little bed
To rest my head;
A little tear is all I crave
Upon my very little grave.
I strew thy bed
Who loved thy lays;
The tear I shed,
The cross I raise,
With nothing more upon it than—
Here lies the little friend of Man!
Who loved thy lays;
The tear I shed,
The cross I raise,
With nothing more upon it than—
Here lies the little friend of Man!
| Poems of the late George Darley | |