06 November 2013

The Robin - An 1815 Poem

By Albert. For the Northern Sentinel.

A few morning since, a robin perched upon a tree where hung the cage of another. They sang alternately the most touching strains. This affecting appeal to the heart gave birth to the following effusions.

Above the cage where pin'd his mate
The robin sung his plaintive lays,
While she approach'd the wiry grate
And join'd the dirge of happier days.
An I blest art thou, sweet music's child,
Who oft can flutter round your fair,
And worble strains so soft and sweet
They lead a captive, wan despair.
But where yon lilac lifts its head
And mingles fragrance with the gale,
There is my Emma's turfy bed
Where eve oft lists my hopeless tale.
Hopeless? ah no! the healing balm
Bland hope diffuses o'er my breast,
Pitying, she bids my heart, "be calm,
For soon its throbbing pulse shall rest."
Yes, I will hope, for 'mong the shades.
When life is o'er, I'll seek my love,
Again I'll clasp the sainted maid,
And claim her in the land above.
May 8, 1815. Burlington Northern Sentinel 5(18): 4.