The Last Robin
Lyrics and Sonnets

by Ethelwyn Wetherald



WE must work to live—
     Not body-life alone, but soul-life.
If to our work ourselves we do not give,
     Our thoughts, our aspirations and our whole life,
Then days become a torture, moments wound,


     The lightest hours are leaden at the core,
And oftentimes we hear that awful sound—
     Time’s ocean with its spirit-crushing roar. [Page 125]