A Book of Nursery Songs and Rhymes/The Robin
For works with similar titles, see The Robin.
LV. THE ROBIN
Come here, little Robin, and put down your wing,
I would not hurt even a feather.
Come here, little Robin, and pick up some crumbs,
To feed you this bitter cold weather.
I don't mean to hurt you, you poor little thing,
And pussy-cat is not behind me.
So hop about pretty, and put down your wing,
And pick up the crumbs and don't mind me.
Cold winter is come, but it will not last long,
And summer we soon will be greeting,
So remember, sweet Robin, and sing me a song,
In return for the breakfast you're eating.