06 November 2013

The Robin - An 1805 Poem

By Rolla; Framingham, May 2, 1805.
Hark! 'tis the Robin, that sings on the spray;
How mournful the note! how solemn the lay!
How aptly it strikes the gloom of the hour,
While evening o'erspreads the listner's bower,
Hark, Emily, mark the languishing fall!
What sorrows of song her bosom inthrall!
She seems to regret, that Spring must depart,
Be rob'd of its charms, and I of my heart.
Alas, the repines that Winter is nigh,
To freeze with its cold the languishing sigh;
Alas, the regrets the frost it must bring
To chill with its blast the roses of Spring.
But O that fond look will rifle my heart,
And hear with its glance fair poetry's art;
The Robin had mourn'd the evening in vain,
Had not you, my love, assisted my strain.
Ah! then forbear the fatal smile,
And let me keep my heart a while.
June 3, 1805. Boston Independent Chronicle 37(2510): 4.