POETRY
ROBIN
ONE chill October morning When day broke white and wan, X heard a robin chitter. The cheery little man I "Cheep ! Cheep !
What shall I do with it ?
Cheep ! Cheep !
Whatever shall I do with it Cheep I Chirrup ! Cheep I There's nothing to be done With my old red waistcoat now I've a new one."
Beechtrees were beacons burning Above the swaying mist, • Chestnut pods were falling And their brown nestlings lost.
The elms, still proud with summer, Yet in their windward tops Hung the pale signs of ruin, Like fever-stricken ships.
And to this world of wreckage Lit by a ghostly sun, The robin piped his worry In wistful voice and thin.
"Cheep ! Cheep !
What shall I do with it?
Cheep ! Cheep .
Whatever shall I do with it ?
Cheep ! Chirrup I Cheep t Oh, there's nothing to be done -With my old red waistcoat now I've a new one."
RICHARD Cninien.
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