A September Robin

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Title:     A September Robin
Author: Dinah M. Mulock Craik [More Titles by Craik]

MY eyes are full, my silent heart is stirred,
Amid these days so bright
Of ceaseless warmth and light;
Summer that will not die,
Autumn, without one sigh
O'er sweet hours passing by--
Cometh that tender note
Out of thy tiny throat,
Like grief, or love, insisting to be heard,
O little plaintive bird!

No need of word
Well know I all your tale--forgotten bird!
Soon you and I together
Must face the winter weather,
Remembering how we sung
Our primrose fields among,
In days when life was young;
Now, all is growing old,
And the warm earth's a-cold,
Still, with brave heart we'll sing on, little bird,
Sing only. Not one word.

[The end]
Dinah M. Mulock Craik's poem: September Robin

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