ROBIN REDBREAST - Sarah Fuller Adams Poems

 
 

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ROBIN REDBREAST

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 wheatstack 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.