Robin Redbreast
’TIS little Robin Redbreast
Was piping on the spray,
‘And pray, mamma, what shall we do
To bring him up this way?’
Mamma into the pantry goes,
And out again she comes,
And up flies the piper sweet,
To pick up the crumbs.
I laughed to see the birdie pick,
And clapt my hands in mirth,
When pussy up her ears did prick,
Was lying on the hearth:
The nasty puss from out the house,
Now at the piper springs;
But off unhurt darts Robin
Upon his little wings.
‘You cruel Tab, what would you do?—
Mamma, reach me the cane,
And I will teach her Queenship how
To play such pranks again:’
Around the room I pussy ran,
And vainly ran her long,
The while away upon the spray
Sweet Robin piped his song.
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