Classic Poem

When cold and frosted lies the plough
And never a flower upsprings,
How blithely on the wintry bough
The Robin sits and sings!

His bright black eye with restless ray
Glints at the snow-clad earth;
Chill blow the winds, and yet his lay
Is bright with Love and Mirth! ...

E'en so, my Robin, didst thou come
Into our wintry clime,
And when the summer bards were dumb
Piped out thy perfect rhyme;

Clouds parted, and the sun shone through!
Men welcomed, smiling bright,
The Friend of Man, the Minstrel true
Of Love, and Life, and Light!

Poor outcast Adam ceased to grieve,
And answer'd with a will:
'Twas Eden once again, and Eve
Was mother-naked still!

And ever by the Cotter's door,
Thy notes rang clear and free,
And Freedom fill'd the soul once more
That hearken'd unto thee!

The crimson stain was on thy breast,
The bleeding heart below,
But bravely thou didst pipe thy best
Despite the whole world's woe!

Blest be that strain of Love and Mirth,
So fearless and so fine! ...
What were this waste of wintry earth
Without such cheer as thine!