Call for the robin-red-breast, and the wren,
Since o'er shady groves they hover,
And with leaves and read more

Call for the robin-red-breast, and the wren,
Since o'er shady groves they hover,
And with leaves and flowers do cover
The friendless bodies of unburied men.

Stay, little cheerful Robin! stay,
And at my easement sing,
Though it should prove a farewell lay
read more

Stay, little cheerful Robin! stay,
And at my easement sing,
Though it should prove a farewell lay
And this our parting spring.
. . . .
Then, little Bird, this boon confer,
Come, and my requiem sing,
Nor fail to be the harbinger
Of everlasting spring.

Art thou the bird whom Man loves best,
The pious bird with the scarlet breast,
Our little read more

Art thou the bird whom Man loves best,
The pious bird with the scarlet breast,
Our little English Robin;
The bird that comes about our doors
When autumn winds are sobbing?

The Redbreast, sacred to the household gods,
Wisely regardful of the embroiling sky,
In joyless fields and read more

The Redbreast, sacred to the household gods,
Wisely regardful of the embroiling sky,
In joyless fields and thorny thickets leaves
His shivering mates, and pays to trusted Man
His annual visit.

The redbreast oft, at evening hours,
Shall kindly lend his little aid,
With hoary moss, and gathered read more

The redbreast oft, at evening hours,
Shall kindly lend his little aid,
With hoary moss, and gathered flowers,
To deck the ground where thou art laid.

Now when the primrose makes a splendid show,
And lilies face the March-winds in full blow,
And read more

Now when the primrose makes a splendid show,
And lilies face the March-winds in full blow,
And humbler growths as moved with one desire
Put on, to welcome spring, their best attire,
Poor Robin is yet flowerless; but how gay
With his red stalks upon this sunny day!

Bearing His cross, while Christ passed forth forlorn,
His God-like forehead by the mock crown torn,
A read more

Bearing His cross, while Christ passed forth forlorn,
His God-like forehead by the mock crown torn,
A little bird took from that crown one thorn.
To soothe the dear Redeemer's throbbing head,
That bird did what she could; His blood, 'tis said,
Down dropping, dyed her tender bosom red.
Since then no wanton boy disturbs her nest;
Weasel nor wild cat will her young molest;
All sacred deem the bird of ruddy breast.

Marry, by these special marks: first, you have learned, like Sir
Proteus, to wreathe your arms like a malcontent, read more

Marry, by these special marks: first, you have learned, like Sir
Proteus, to wreathe your arms like a malcontent, to relish a
love-song like a robin-redbreast, to walk alone like one that had
the pestilence, to sigh like a schoolboy that had lost his A B C,
to weep like a young wench that had buried her grandam, to fast
like one that takes diet, to watch like one that fears robbing,
to speak puling like a beggar at Hallowmas.