The Last Robin
Lyrics and Sonnets

by Ethelwyn Wetherald



UNTO my friends I give my thoughts,
     Unto my God my soul,
Unto my foe I leave my love—
     These are of life the whole.

Nay, there is something—a trifle—left;


     Who shall receive this dower?
See, Earth Mother, a handful of dust—
     Turn it into a flower. [Page 96]