The Last Robin
Lyrics and Sonnets


by Ethelwyn Wetherald



 

HIS TURN.



A GOOD soul once, not without qualms,
     Knocked at the gates eternal,
And begged of Lazarus an alms
     For use in realms infernal.

“The rich man of whose crumbs you ate

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     Needs water.  O surprise him
With just one drop.”  He smiled sedate:
“I fear ’twould pauperize him.

“And then, you know, I can’t revoke
     My rule, which is unswerving:

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I never give to wealthy folk
     Unless they are deserving.” [Page 94]