Hey Robin, Jolly Robin!

Twelfth Night.

Robin of the valiant air
And the ebon head,
Proud, perhaps, that thou dost bear
Breast so brave a red:

Robin of the rounded throat,
Straight of back and slim,
Robin sending fearless note
Through the dawn-haze dim:

Through this haze of spring-time dawn,
Tell me, hast thou seen,—
From thy cool untrodden lawn,
Shimmering silver-green,

Where the broken blossoms lie,
Colored like a shell,—
Seen the maid I’d meet pass by?
Dearest Robin, tell!

How shouldst thou my true-love know
From another one?
By her pure cheek’s welcoming glow,
Thee to look upon!

By her eyes, that at thy call
Straightway would declare
Sister is her soul to all
Fearless things and fair!

Gone, with such a dashing dart,
Such a whistle clear?
What canst mean?—Ah, gallant heart,
Bless thee! She is here.