THE ROBIN AND THE FLOWER.
A Robin once sat in the bright winter's sun,
A foolish red robin was he,
For he sang a sweet song that springtime had come
When the day was as cold as could be.
So gay was his song of the warmth of the hour,
So merrily babbled the sound,
That it stole through the dream of a dear little flower
Who was slumbering under the ground.
The sleeper awakened, soft lifted the sod