“But will find me a cooler retreat.”
Then the heart of the poor little robin
Grew sad, as he thought of the day
When he turned from the dear little maiden,
And his nest in the maple so gay.
“I’ll go back to her home” said the robin;
“Perchance she will bid me to stay.
She was always a kind friend to robin.
Oh, why was I tempted to stray?”
When spring spread her beautiful mantle