Poetry Explorer- Classic Contemporary Poetry, THE ROBIN'S NEST, by PHOEBE CARY


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Classic and Contemporary Poetry

THE ROBIN'S NEST, by                 Poet Analysis     Poet's Biography
First Line: Jenny brown has as pretty a house of her own
Last Line: "I sang when I courted you -- shall I, my dear?"
Subject(s): Birds' Nests; Robins


JENNY BROWN has as pretty a house of her own
As ever a bird need to want, I should think;
And the sheltering vine that about it had grown,
Half hid it in green leaves and roses of pink.

As she never looked shabby, or seemed out of date,
It was surely enough, though she had but one dress;
And Robin, the fellow she took for her mate,
Was quite constant -- that is, for a Robin, I guess.

Jenny Brown had four birdies, the cunningest things
That ever peeped back to a motherbird's call;
That only could flutter their soft downy wings,
And open their mouths to take food -- that was all.

Now I dare say you think she was happy and gay,
And she was almost always contented; but yet,
Though I know you will hardly believe what I say,
Sometimes she would ruffle her feathers and fret.

One day, tired of flying about in the heat,
She came home in her crossest and sulkiest mood;
And though she brought back not a morsel to eat,
She pecked little Robin for crying for food.

Just then Robin came and looked in through the trees,
And saw with a quick glance that all was not right,
But he sung out as cheerful and gay as you please:
"Why, Jenny, dear Jenny, how are you to-night?"

It made her more angry to see him so calm,
While she suffered all that a bird could endure;
And she answered, "'How am I?' who cares how I am?
It isn't you, Robin, for one, I am sure!

"You know I've been tied here day in and day out,
Till I'm tired almost of my home and my life,
While you -- you go carelessly roving about,
And singing to every one else but your wife."

Then Robin replied: "Little reason you've got
To complain of me, Jenny; wherever I roam
I still think of you, and your quieter lot,
And wish 't was my place to stay here at home.

"And as to my singing, I give you my word,
'T is in concert, and always in public, beside;
For excepting yourself, there is no ladybird
Knows the softest and lovingest notes I have tried.

"And, Jenny," -- and here he spoke tenderly quite,
As with head drooped aside he drew nearer and stood, --
"I heard some sad news as I came home to-night,
About our poor neighbors that live in the wood.

"You know Nelly Jay, that wild, thoughtless young thing,
Who takes in her children and home no delight,
But early and late is abroad on the wing,
To chatter and gossip from morning till night, --

"Well, yesterday, just after noon, she went out,
And strayed till the sun had gone down in the west;
Complaining to some of her friends, I've no doubt,
Of the trouble she had taking care of her nest;

"And her sweet little Nelly, -- you've seen her, my dear,
The brightest and sprightliest bird of them all,
The age of our Jenny, I think, very near,
Tumbled out of the nest and was killed by the fall.

"I saw the poor thing lying stiff on the ground,
With its little wing broke and the film o'er its eyes,
While the mother was flying distractedly round
And startling the wood with her piteous cries.

"As I stopped, just to say a kind, comforting word,
I thought how my own home was guarded and blessed;
For, Jenny, my darling, my beauty, my bird,
I knew I should find you content in the nest!

"And how are our birdies? -- the dear little things;
How softly and snugly asleep they are laid;
But don't fold them quite so close under your wings,
Or you'll kill them with kindness, my pet, I'm afraid.

"And, Jenny, I'll stay with them now, -- nay, I must,
While you go out a moment, and take the fresh air;
You sit here too much by yourself, I mistrust,
And are quite overburdened with work and with care.

"What, you don't want to go! you want nothing so long
As your dear little ones and your Robin are here?
Then I'll stay with you, Jenny, and sing the old song
I sang when I courted you -- shall I, my dear?"





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