The Last Robin
Lyrics and Sonnets


by Ethelwyn Wetherald



 

GREEN BEGINNINGS.



WHEN October’s shining arms are drooping,
    Burdened with the gold of all her winnings,
Oft I think of April, gleaming, glinting,
    On a million little green beginnings.

Or within the city’s dust and clamor

5

    Fancy spins a web, and all her spinnings
Are of bending branch and running water
    And a sward of little green beginnings.

Spring and springtime hopes are with us always.
    E’en the heart grown aged in its sinnings

10

Holds till death the budding boughs of promise,
    With their myriad little fair beginnings. [Page 18]