What, Robin dead !
Dead in Springtime, too !
How discordant all the songs will be
Failing you !
I had fed you all the winter ;
And you promised clear.
In your plaintive, snow-time minor,
I should one day hear
How your voice could range the major
When you found a mate –
And but yesterday you wooed her,
Dreaming not your fate I
Sweet Robin, dead !
In the Springtime, too !
How discordant all the songs will be
Failing you.
(Charles Granville)
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Based on Topics: Winter Poems, Dreaming PoemsBased on Keywords: snow-time