The Last Robin
Lyrics and Sonnets

by Ethelwyn Wetherald



O SOUNDING winds that tirelessly are blowing
     Through the wide starlit spaces of the night;
     O eager rains that sweep the distant height,
And restless streams impetuously flowing,
And clouds that will delay not in your going,


     And ships that sail and vanish from the sight,
     And happy birds that stay not in your flight,
And suns upon your skyey pathway glowing:—

Poor laggards all!  One tender thought outstrips you.
     Go, little thought, and tell my love from me


          I care for him to-day as yesterday.
Ah, how its strength and swiftness doth eclipse you!
     For now the answer comes invisibly,
          And instantly, and in the surest way. [Page 184]