The Last Robin
Lyrics and Sonnets

by Ethelwyn Wetherald



A FAILURE, who had ne’er achieved
     Self victory, at last lay dead.
“Poor Failure!” thus his neighbors grieved.
     “Poor, pitiable wretch,” they said,
“His weakness was the worst of crimes,


He failed at least a thousand times.”

Meanwhile the Failure gave to God
     His vain attempts. Remorsefully
And prostrate on the skyey sod,
     “I failed a thousand times,” said he.


“Welcome!” rang out the heavenly chimes,
“He strove—he strove a thousand times.” [Page 92]