Classic Poetry

The Robin
When up aloft
I fly and fly,
I see in pools
The shining sky,
And a happy bird
Am I, am I!
When I descend
Toward the brink
I stand and look
10 And stop and drink
11 And bathe my wings,
12 And chink, and prink.
13 When winter frost
14 Makes earth as steel,
15 I search and search
16 But find no meal,
17 And most unhappy
18 Then I feel.
19 But when it lasts,
20 And snows still fall,
21 I get to feel
22 No grief at all
23 For I turn to a cold, stiff
24 Feathery ball!
Thomas Hardy