O robin, sing your first spring song to me! Since autumn trailed her scarlet robes in dust, And in her hapless passion, burned with rust The ripened fields, I 've looked in every tree, In every bush that plumes above the lea, For you, dear friend with umber-tinted bust! And through the frigid months, with cheerful trust I 've waited for your vernal jubilee, Till now, at last, where yet the snowy foam Of winter tempests flecks the chastened lawn, I see you standing, triumph-voiced and strong, With keen bill prodding in the grassy loam!— Sweet songster with the breast like russet dawn, Mount yonder tree and carol me a song! | Discover our Poem Explanations and Poet Analyses!Other Poems of Interest...PLACE FOR A THIRD by ROBERT FROST SONNET TO THOSE WHO SEE BUT DARKLY by GEORGIA DOUGLAS JOHNSON |