My robins are gone—
The last one has flown;
With a pang in my breast
I look into the nest
And know I’m forever alone.
The night will come in thro’ the crimsoning west,
Repeating that lesson of pain—
“The robin that once has flown out of the nest
Seeks never its shelter again.”
My robins are gone, etc.
O, glad was my heart with its fullness of love
When fondly I cared for them all,
But now I’m alone, in the shadowy grove,
And they are too far for recall.
My robins are gone, etc.
The world was so wide, and the skies were so blue,
They tempted my darlings away;
In the bright, dewy morning so buoyant they flew,
Nor dreamed of the noon-heat of day.
My robins are gone, etc.
I’ll stay by the lonely, embowered, old nest—
Some stars will beam down thro’ the night;
I’ll hush my heart’s cry with a “God knoweth best,”
And wait for the dawn of the light.
Tho’ my robins are gone,
Tho’ the last one has flown,
They’ll think of the tree
That is sheltering me,—
They’ll be to me ever my own.