Two robins came in early Spring,—
When Winter's reign was o'er;
And every morn I heard them sing
Just by our cottage door.

They built their nest of moss and hay
Within a maple-tree,—
And thither every pleasant day,
I went to hear and see.

At first whene'er I came they flew,
Or eyed me in alarm;
But soon my step familiar grew,
I never did them harm.

One day a louder song I heard,
With eager cries for food;
And then I helped the mother-bird
To still her hungry brood.

I always seemed a welcome guest;
Both old and young I fed,
Then settling down beneath the nest,
Some pleasant book I read.

I watched them fondly day by day,
Until their wings were grown;
When suddenly they flew away,
And left me all alone.

The bitter tears began to start,
And full of sad regret
I wondered in my simple heart,
If birds could thus forget!

Ah! many summers have returned,
And many changes wrought,
Since I the mournful lesson learned,
In early childhood taught.

And many hopes have taken wings
On which my heart was set,—
And I have found that many things
As well as birds forget!