ARBOR DA Y MANUAL. ^ 39 



ROBIN 'S COME. 



FROM the elm-tree's topmost bough, 

 Hark ! the robin's early song ! 

 Telling one and all that now 



Merry spring-time hastes along. 

 Welcome tidings dost thou bring, 

 Little harbinger of Spring: 

 Robin 's come. 



Of the Winter we are wean,-, 



Weary of the frost and snow ; 



Longing for the sunshine cheery, 



And the brooklet's gurgling flow. 



Gladly then we hear thee sing 



The joyful reveille of Spring : 

 Robin 's come. 



Ring it out o'er hill and plain, 



Through the garden's lonely bowers, 

 Till the green leaves dance again, 



Till the air is sweet with flowers ! 

 Wake the cowslips by the rill ; 

 Wake the yellow daffodil : 

 Robin 's come. 



Singing still in yonder lane, 



Robin answers merrily; 

 Ravished by the sweet refrain, 



Alice clasps her hands in glee, 

 Calling from the open door, 

 With her soft voice, o'er and o'er, 

 " Robin 's come." 



The hills, 



Rock-ribbed and ancient as the sun; the vales, 

 Stretching in pensive quietness between ; 

 The venerable woods; rivers that move 

 In majesty, and the complaining brooks, 

 That make the meadows green : and poured round all, 

 Old ocean's gray and melancholy waste, 

 Are but the solemn decorations all 

 Of the great tomb of man. * * 



BRYANT'S Thanatopsis. 



