The Last Robin
Lyrics and Sonnets

by Ethelwyn Wetherald



FOR strength we ask
For the ten thousand times repeated task,
The endless smallnesses of every day.

No, not to lay
My life down in the cause I cherish most.


That were too easy. But, whate’er it cost,

To fail no more
In gentleness toward the ungentle, nor
In love toward the unlovely, and to give,

Each day I live,


To every hour with outstretched hand its meed
Of not-to-be-regretted thought and deed. [Page 138]