The Robin Redbreast. (From The Villager's Verse-Book.)

1 Poor Robin sits and sings alone When showers of driving sleet, By the cold winds of winter blown, The cottage casement beat. 2 Come, let him share our chimney nook, And dry his dripping wing; See, little Mary shuts her book, And cries, "Poor Robin, sing!" 3 Methinks I hear his faint reply: When cowslips deck the plain, The lark shall carol in the sky, And I shall sing again. 4 But in the cold and wintry day, To you I owe a debt, That in the sunshine of the May I never can forget!