[pathopoetry] I and the robin

I and the robin, the songs we sang!
We sang, oh sang, we sang, but oh!
I and the lark - what saving grace
Called forth the nightingale, cast out the crow!

I and the robin, our colour is true!
Sing we cannot, but song we must be
I have abondened my wreath of rue -
For broader a branch, for greener a tree

Hearts abreasted, love in array
Our colour is true, for truth we display
So friend, forsake me or keep me, I say:
My love will surpass you, do then what you may.

I am the song-, the love-, the blue-
I am the nightingale, casting the crow
I am the lark, but am I the True?
I am the robin; God help me be so.


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