An Epitaph On A Robin Red-Breast - Poem by Samuel Rogers
Tread lightly here, for here, 'tis said,
When piping winds are hushed around,
A small note wakes from the underground,
Where now his tiny bones are laid.
No more in lone and leafless groves,
With ruffled wing and faded breast,
His friendless, homeless spirit roves;
--Gone to the world where birds are blest!
Or school-boy's giant form is seen;
But Love, and Joy, and smiling Spring
Inspire their little souls to sing!
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Still I Rise
The Road Not Taken
If You Forget Me
Edgar Allan Poe
Stopping By Woods On A Snowy Evening
I Do Not Love You Except Because I Love You