Doc Geo. Smith. April 12, 1891. Omaha Sunday World-Herald 26(194): 11. Children's Page poem. ROBIN RED-BREAST.
- Why so late at your nest
- Little Robin Red-Breast!
- The summer is passing away,
- The autumn's cold blast
- Is approaching full fast,
- Then why this delinquent delay.
-
- Thy dear little young
- Should in summer have sung
- Their hymns to the Author of day,
- Then Robin Red-Breast
- Why so late at your nest,
- Pray, what has occasioned delay?
-
- Chide me not, chide me not,
- Little man of the cot,
- Already I sorrow and grieve,
- The smart of the dart
- That is piercing my heart
- You little folks cannot conceive.
-
- But later in life
- When suffering and strife
- Your sunshine and hopes shall obscure,
- You may get an impress
- Of my grievous distress
- And realize what I endure.
-
- In the Spring I was blest
- For I built me a nest,
- And three little eggs I had lain
- When a very rude boy
- Stole them all for a toy
- And burdened my bosom with pain.
-
- With sticks and with dirt
- I again went to work,
- And constructed another complete,
- But the same cruel boy,
- All ecstatic with joy,
- Soon found out my secret retreat.
-
- I flew at his eyes,
- But in spite of my cries,
- He tore it away from the tree,
- And, laughing, he ran
- With nest in his hand,
- Nor heeded the pain it gave me.
-
- I, a poor little bird,
- Am now building my third,
- So, kind little man, good night.
- Then from her sweet throat
- She warbled a note,
- And darted away from my sight.
-
- In the month of September,
- Quite well I remember,
- I strayed by a thicket along,
- When there by her nest
- Sat Robin Red-Breast,
- All merrily singing her song.
-
- I slyly did creep
- To get just a peep
- At her dear little family there,
- When all in a fright
- They flew from my sight
- And darted—I cannot tell where.
-
- Dear Robin Red-Breast,
- Come in springtime and nest
- In the tree by my own cabin door,
- And I will attend you,
- Watch, guard and defend you,
- And give you a part of my store.
- Doc Geo. Smith,
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