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.
Related poetry:
- 65. Song-Rantin, Rovin Robin THERE 1 was a lad was born in Kyle, But whatna day o’ whatna style, I doubt it’s hardly worth the while To be sae nice wi’ Robin. Chor.-Robin was a rovin’ boy, Rantin’, rovin’, rantin’, rovin’, Robin was a rovin’ boy, Rantin’, rovin’, Robin! Our monarch’s hindmost year but ane Was five-and-twenty days begun, […]...
- The Robin is the One The Robin is the One That interrupt the Morn With hurried few express Reports When March is scarcely on The Robin is the One That overflow the Noon With her cherubic quantity An April but begun The Robin is the One That speechless from her Nest Submit that Home and Certainty And Sanctity, are best...
- Poor Cock Robin My garden robin in the Spring Was rapturous with glee, And followed me with wistful wing From pear to apple tree; His melodies the summer long He carolled with delight, As if he could with jewelled song Find favour in my sight. And now that Autumn’s in the air He’s singing singing still, And yet […]...
- Robin Hood's Flight Robin Hood’s mother, these twelve years now, Has been gone from her earthly home; And Robin has paid, he scarce knew how, A sum for a noble tomb. The church-yard lies on a woody hill, But open to sun and air: It seems as if the heaven still Were looking and smiling there. Often when […]...
- Robin Hood, An Outlaw Robin Hood is an outlaw bold Under the greenwood tree; Bird, nor stag, nor morning air Is more at large than he. They sent against him twenty men, Who joined him laughing-eyed; They sent against him thirty more, And they remained beside. All the stoutest of the train, That grew in Gamelyn wood, Whether they […]...
- The Robin's my Criterion for Tune The Robin’s my Criterion for Tune Because I grow where Robins do But, were I Cuckoo born I’d swear by him The ode familiar rules the Noon The Buttercup’s, my Whim for Bloom Because, we’re Orchard sprung But, were I Britain born, I’d Daisies spurn None but the Nut October fit Because, through dropping it, […]...
- The Death of Robin Hood “Give me my bow,” said Robin Hood, “An arrow give to me; And where ‘t is shot mark thou that spot, For there my grave shall be.” Then Little John did make no sign, And not a word he spake; But he smiled, altho’ with mickle woe His heart was like to break. He raised […]...
- Robin Hood, A Child It was the pleasant season yet, When the stones at cottage doors Dry quickly, while the roads are wet, After the silver showers. The green leaves they looked greener still, And the thrush, renewing his tune, Shook a loud note from his gladsome bill Into the bright blue noon. Robin Hood’s mother looked out, and […]...
- Robin Hood to a friend No! those days are gone away And their hours are old and gray, And their minutes buried all Under the down-trodden pall Of the leaves of many years: Many times have winter’s shears, Frozen North, and chilling East, Sounded tempests to the feast Of the forest’s whispering fleeces, Since men knew nor […]...
- Rain and the Robin A ROBIN in the morning, In the morning early, Sang a song of warning, “There’ll be rain, there’ll be rain.” Very, very clearly From the orchard Came the gentle horning, “There’ll be rain.” But the hasty farmer Cut his hay down, Did not heed the charmer From the orchard, And the mower’s clatter Ceased at […]...
- 244. The Henpecked Husband Chorus.-Robin shure in hairst, I shure wi’ him. Fient a heuk had I, Yet I stack by him. I GAED up to Dunse, To warp a wab o’ plaiden, At his daddie’s yett, Wha met me but Robin: Robin shure, &c. Was na Robin bauld, Tho’ I was a cotter, Play’d me sic a trick, […]...
- TO ROBIN RED-BREAST Laid out for dead, let thy last kindness be With leaves and moss-work for to cover me; And while the wood-nymphs my cold corpse inter, Sing thou my dirge, sweet-warbling chorister! For epitaph, in foliage, next write this: HERE, HERE THE TOMB OF ROBIN HERRICK IS!...
- I will Take an Egg Out of the Robin's Nest I WILL take an egg out of the robin’s nest in the orchard, I will take a branch of gooseberries from the old bush in the garden, and go and preach to the world; You shall see I will not meet a single heretic or scorner, You shall see how I stump clergymen, and confound […]...
- How Robin and His Outlaws Lived in The Woods Robin and his merry men : Lived just like the birds; They had almost as many tracks as thoughts, : And whistles and songs as words. Up they were with the earliest sign Of the sun’s up-looking eye; But not an archer breakfasted Till he twinkled from the sky. All the morning they were wont […]...
- Three Things to Remember A Robin Redbreast in a cage, Puts all Heaven in a rage. A skylark wounded on the wing Doth make a cherub cease to sing. He who shall hurt the little wren Shall never be beloved by men....
- The Robin is a Gabriel The Robin is a Gabriel In humble circumstances His Dress denotes him socially, Of Transport’s Working Classes He has the punctuality Of the New England Farmer The same oblique integrity, A Vista vastly warmer A small but sturdy Residence A self denying Household, The Guests of Perspicacity Are all that cross his Threshold As covert […]...
- I shall keep singing! I shall keep singing! Birds will pass me On their way to Yellower Climes Each with a Robin’s expectation I with my Redbreast And my Rhymes Late when I take my place in summer But I shall bring a fuller tune Vespers are sweeter than Matins Signor Morning only the seed of Noon...
- I dreaded that first Robin, so I dreaded that first Robin, so, But He is mastered, now, I’m accustomed to Him grown, He hurts a little, though I thought If I could only live Till that first Shout got by Not all Pianos in the Woods Had power to mangle me I dared not meet the Daffodils For fear their Yellow […]...
- Owl Against Robin Frowning, the owl in the oak complained him Sore, that the song of the robin restrained him Wrongly of slumber, rudely of rest. “From the north, from the east, from the south and the west, Woodland, wheat-field, corn-field, clover, Over and over and over and over, Five o’clock, ten o’clock, twelve, or seven, Nothing but […]...
- Buckingham Palace They’re changing guard at Buckingham Palace – Christopher Robin went down with Alice. Alice is marrying one of the guard. “A soldier’s life is terrible hard,” Says Alice. They’re changing guard at Buckingham Palace – Christopher Robin went down with Alice. We saw a guard in a sentry-box. “One of the sergeants looks after their […]...
- The Vagabond Give to me the life I love, Let the lave go by me, Give the jolly heaven above And the byway nigh me. Bed in the bush with stars to see, Bread I dip in the river – There’s the life for a man like me, There’s the life for ever. Let the blow fall […]...
- The Daughter Of The Year Nature, when she made thee, dear, Begged the treasures of the year. For thy cheeks, all pink and white, Spring gave apple blossoms light; Summer, for thy matchless eyes, Gave the azure of her skies; Autumn spun her gold and red In a mass of silken thread- Gold and red and sunlight rare For the […]...
- TO AN OLD DANISH SONG-BOOK Welcome, my old friend, Welcome to a foreign fireside, While the sullen gales of autumn Shake the windows. The ungrateful world Has, it seems, dealt harshly with thee, Since, beneath the skies of Denmark, First I met thee. There are marks of age, There are thumb-marks on thy margin, Made by hands that clasped thee […]...
- To Robin Goodfellow I see you, Maister Bawsy-brown, Through yonder lattice creepin’; You come for cream and to gar me dream, But you dinna find me sleepin’. The moonbeam, that upon the floor Wi’ crickets ben a-jinkin’, Now steals away fra’ her bonnie play Wi’ a rosier blie, I’m thinkin’. I saw you, Maister Bawsy-brown, When the blue […]...
- The Belltower the weighing is done in autumn And the sifting What is to be threshed Is threshed in autumn What is to be gathered is taken The wind does not die in autumn The moon Shifts endlessly thru flying clouds In autumn the sea is high & a golden light plays everywhere Making it harder To […]...
- 246. Song-Robin Shure in Hairst HIS face with smile eternal drest, Just like the Landlord’s to his Guest’s, High as they hang with creaking din, To index out the Country Inn. He looked just as your sign-post Lions do, With aspect fierce, and quite as harmless too. A head, pure, sinless quite of brain and soul, The very image of […]...
- Sonnet 97: How like a winter hath my absence been How like a winter hath my absence been From thee, the pleasure of the fleeting year! What freezings have I felt, what dark days seen! What old December’s bareness everywhere! And yet this time removed was summer’s time, The teeming autumn, big with rich increase, Bearing the wanton burden of the prime, Like widowed wombs […]...
- Sonnet XCVII How like a winter hath my absence been From thee, the pleasure of the fleeting year! What freezings have I felt, what dark days seen! What old December’s bareness every where! And yet this time removed was summer’s time, The teeming autumn, big with rich increase, Bearing the wanton burden of the prime, Like widow’d […]...
- Dust is the only Secret Dust is the only Secret Death, the only One You cannot find out all about In his “native town.” Nobody know “his Father” Never was a Boy Hadn’t any playmates, Or “Early history” Industrious! Laconic! Punctual! Sedate! Bold as a Brigand! Stiller than a Fleet! Builds, like a Bird, too! Christ robs the Nest Robin […]...
- Seasons In the willow-meads of Tasarinan I walked in the Spring. Ah! The sight and smell of the Spring in Nantasarion! And I said that was good. I wandered in Summer in the elm-woods of Ossiriand. Ah! The light and the music in the Summer by the Seven Rivers of Ossir! And I thought that was […]...
- Presentiment ‘ SISTER, you’ve sat there all the day, Come to the hearth awhile; The wind so wildly sweeps away, The clouds so darkly pile. That open book has lain, unread, For hours upon your knee; You’ve never smiled nor turned your head What can you, sister, see? ‘ ‘ Come hither, Jane, look down the […]...
- UPON MRS ELIZ. WHEELER, UNDER THE NAME OFAMARILLIS Sweet Amarillis, by a spring’s Soft and soul-melting murmurings, Slept; and thus sleeping, thither flew A Robin-red-breast; who at view, Not seeing her at all to stir, Brought leaves and moss to cover her: But while he, perking, there did pry About the arch of either eye, The lid began to let out day, At […]...
- Pink small and punctual Pink small and punctual Aromatic low Covert in April Candid in May Dear to the Moss Known to the Knoll Next to the Robin In every human Soul Bold little Beauty Bedecked with thee Nature forswears Antiquity...
- In Faith When the soft sweet wind o’ the south went by, I dwelt in the light of a dark brown eye; And out where the robin sang his song, We lived and loved, while the days were long. In the sweet, sweet eves, when the moon swung high, We wandered under the starry sky; Or sat […]...
- A spring poem from bion One asketh: “Tell me, Myrson, tell me true: What’s the season pleaseth you? Is it summer suits you best, When from harvest toil we rest? Is it autumn with its glory Of all surfeited desires? Is it winter, when with story And with song we hug our fires? Or is spring most fair to you […]...
- Unlyric Love Song It is time to give that-of-myself which I could not at first: To offer you now at last my least and my worst: Minor, absurd preserves, The shell’s end-curves, A document kept at the back of a drawer, A tin hidden under the floor, Recalcitrant prides and hesitations: To pile them carefully in a desparate […]...
- 16-bit Intel 8088 chip with an Apple Macintosh You can’t run Radio Shack programs In its disc drive. Nor can a Commodore 64 Drive read a file You have created on an IBM Personal Computer. Both Kaypro and Osborne computers use The CP/M operating system But can’t read each other’s Handwriting For they format (write On) discs in different […]...
- My Indian Summer Here in the Autumn of my days My life is mellowed in a haze. Unpleasant sights are none to clear, Discordant sounds I hardly hear. Infirmities like buffers soft Sustain me tranquilly aloft. I’m deaf to duffers, blind to bores, Peace seems to percolate my pores. I fold my hands, keep quiet mind, In dogs […]...
- 8. Song-Montgomerie's Peggy ALTHO’ my bed were in yon muir, Amang the heather, in my plaidie; Yet happy, happy would I be, Had I my dear Montgomerie’s Peggy. When o’er the hill beat surly storms, And winter nights were dark and rainy; I’d seek some dell, and in my arms I’d shelter dear Montgomerie’s Peggy. Were I a […]...
- Goodbat Nightman God bless all policemen And fighters of crime, May thieves go to jail For a very long time. They’ve had a hard day Helping clean up the town, Now they hang from the mantelpiece Both upside down. A glass of warm blood And then straight up the stairs, Batman and Robin Are saying their prayers. […]...