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= Sy WAN OUR FRIENDS, THE BIRDS. 83 
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a THE FIRST ROBIN. 
‘s S| © htt BY J. F. HERBIN. 
a A Robin came to-day with earliest dawn, 
; a And whistled through the orchard 
ANS avenues, 
“%  Birdless and bare, and dull with clinging 
dews. 
From tree and shadowy fence the plumage shone 
Of this sole singer; while through lane and lawn 
He called in vain for answer to the news 
_ He brought to-day among the misty views 
Until his whistle and his wing were gone. 
The piping said not whence or why he came 
Before a bud is broken on a tree, 
While yet the brooks are icy, and the cold 
Clings to the earth. His breast was like a flame. 
In the dull morn; his calling seemed to be 
For life, not yet awake in field and wold. 
THE ROBIN. 
BY MARCELLA A. FITZGERALD, 
Among the quiet peasants of Brittany they tell 
This legend of the Robin by children loved so well; 
This legend of the Robin, whose merry accents ring 
Through every glade and covert sweet welcome to the Spring. 
They say that when the Savior to Calvary’s rugged crest 
Bearing his cross moved forward, sore, wounded and oppressed, 
When foemen thronged around him, and friends fled far in fear, 
Above the angry multitude a Robin hovered near. 
