SINCE I have seen a bird one day, His head pecked more than half-away; That hopped about, with but one eye, Ready to fight again, and die -- Ofttimes since then their private lives Have spoilt that joy their music gives. So when I see this robin now, Like a red apple on the bough, And question why he sings so strong, For love, or for the love of song; Or sings, maybe, for that sweet rill Whose silver tongue is never still -- Ah, now there comes this thought unkind, Born of the knowledge in my mind: He sings in triumph that last night He killed his father in a fight; And now he'll take his mother's blood -- The last strong rival for his food. | Discover our Poem Explanations and Poet Analyses!Other Poems of Interest...BUCOLIC COMEDY: THE DOLL by EDITH SITWELL ICHABOD by JOHN GREENLEAF WHITTIER THE DEAD LEAF by ANTOINE VINCENT ARNAULT SONNET: 18 by RICHARD BARNFIELD THE SHEPHERD'S SONG: A CAROL OR HYMN FOR CHRISTMAS by EDMUND BOLTON ARISTOPHANES' APOLOGY; BEING THE LAST ADVENTURE OF BALAUSTION: PART 2 by ROBERT BROWNING RAMESES WORSHIPS RAMESES AT ABU SIMBEL by AMELIA JOSEPHINE BURR |