The Robin

Last week I was watching a robin,
As busy as a bee,
Gathering grass and flowers,
Building her nest in a tree.
Her task was nearly completed,
When a windstorm came that way
And destroyed in only a moment
Her labor of many a day.

But I do admire the robin,
Though mistfortune she has met,
She does not droop in sorrow,
Or brood in vain regret.
But she is working harder than ever
In sunshine and in rain,
And the nest that was ruined a week ago
Is almost built again.

I think she looks to the future.
That's why her song is sweet.
She will not be discouraged,
Or own she has met defeat.
She sings as sweetly as ever
Tho' her loss must have cost her pain,
And the nest that was ruined a week ago
Is almost built again.

I wonder if we as humans
Who brag on how much we know
Can do as well as the robin
And sing as we suffer a blow.
Or don't we much more often
Just kick and growl and whine
And make our loss just double
By wasting precious time?

I hope I have learned my lesson
From the robin and her nest,
And that I may meet discouragement
With new hope in my breast.
FOr I have come to this conclusion,
Tho' we may be six feet tall,
We often haven't as much backbone
As the robin, after all.

Author unknown