THE ROBIN

Lines on the death of a small bird in the garden.

The robin looked askance at me,

said why not take a chance on me,

try to take a glance at me

before I drop down dead.

 

He came up close and perched on me,

his beady eyes they searched at me

and when I coughed he lurched on me

and then he dropped down dead.

 

His beady eyes were blaming me,

I saw that he was shaming me,

His soul in Heaven was naming me:

I saw his breast was red.

 

I dug a grave and wept for him,

I sung a hymn and crept with him

My silent soul, it slept with him,

because his heart was dead.

 

There's none too small to bear your love,

no friend too mean to share your love,

no witch's trap to snare your love

when your little friend is dead.