The Robin

by Thomas Hardy

 
When up aloft
I fly and fly,
I see in pools
The shining sky,
And a happy bird
Am I, am I!
 
When I descend
Toward the brink
I stand and look
And stop and drink
And bathe my wings,
And chink, and prink.
 
When winter frost
Makes earth as steel,
I search and search
But find no meal,
And most unhappy
Then I feel.
 
But when it lasts,
And snows still fall,
I get to feel
No grief at all
For I turn to a cold, stiff
Feathery ball!
 
Thomas Hardy | Classic Poems
 

[ Afterwards ] [ At Castle Boterel ] [ The Darkling Thrush ] [ On the Departure Platform ] [ The Robin ] [ The Dead Man Walking ]
 

 


 

 

 
 
 
 

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