15
FRIENDS IN WINTER.
THE SNOW-DROP, CROCUS, AND ROBIN RED-BREAST.
Hark, hark! with what a pretty throat
Poor Robin Red Breast tones his note.
Cold blew the wintry wind, as if it swept
O'er frozen worlds, and caught their iciness:—
The small birds, hopping 'mong the leafless twigs,
Chirped cheerily as I around me flung
Their wonted portion of my morning's meal;
And, leader of them all, the Robin, tame
And free, came warbling and hopping on,
Nearer and nearer yet; his bright black eye
Looking askance upon the scattered food,
And his tail frisking, as he skipped about,
Singing his glad good-morrow.
I do love
That fearless bird—all the long winter through,
'Midst snow, and frost, and bitter cold he came,
Greeting me daily with his rich, sweet voice,
Nor e'er went unremembered.
E'en before
The poet's Nightingale, the Red-breast holds
A place in my esteem,—for she seems coy,
Distant, capricious—and commands you forth
