Good-bye, good-bye to summer!
For summer’s nearly done;
The garden smiling faintly,
Cool breezes in the sun;
Our Thrushes now are silent,
Our Swallows flown away, --
But Robin's here, in coat of brown,
With ruddy breast-knot gay.
Robin, Robin Redbreast,
O Robin dear!
Robin singing sweetly
In the falling of the year.
Bright yellow, red, and orange,
The leaves come down in hosts;
The trees are Indian Princes,
But soon they'll turn to Ghosts;
The scanty pears and apples
Hang russet on the bough,
It's autumn, autumn, autumn late,
'Twill soon be winter now.
Robin, Robin Redbreast,
O Robin dear!
And welaway! My Robin,
For pinching times are near.
The fireside for the Cricket,
The wheat stack for the Mouse,
When trembling night-winds whistle
And moan all round the house;
The frosty ways like iron,
The branches plumed with snow, --
Alas! In winter, dead and dark,
Where can poor Robin go?
Robin, Robin Redbreast,
O Robin dear!
And a crumb of bread for Robin,
His little heart to cheer.
:D :D :D :D :D :D :D :D
Poet unknown ???
Click here. :D
http://libr.unl.edu:2000/birds_of_nebraska/DJ.00739.html :D :D :D :D :D :D :D :D :D :D :D :D :D :D :D :D :D :D :D :D :D :D