48 



ROBIN REDBREAST. 



„ Sweet Robin, I have heard them say 

 That thou wert there, upon that day 

 That Christ was crowned in cruel scorn, 

 And bore away one bleeding thorn j 

 That so the blush upon thy breast, 

 In shameful sorrow was impressed ; 

 And thence thy genial sympathy 

 "With our redeemed humanity. 



„ Sweet Robin, would that I might be 

 Bathed in my Savior's blood like thee ; 

 Bear on my breast, whate'er the loss, 

 The bleeding blazon of the cross ; 

 Live, ever, with thy loving mind, 

 In fellowship with human kind ; 

 And take my pattern still from thee. 

 In gentleness and constancy." 



The following verse is an extract from a very pretty 

 and pathetic poem, written on the far-famed story of 

 „The Death of the Babes in the Wood :" 



„ No burial these pretty babes 



Of any man receives ; 

 But Robin Redbreast painfully 



Did cover them with leaves." 



