Wednesday, April 18, 2012
Tuesday, April 17, 2012
To a Robin in the Roses
Bearing His cross, while Christ passed forth forlorn,
His God-like forehead by the mock crown torn,
A little bird took from that crown one thorn.
To soothe the dear Redeemer's throbbing head,
That bird did what she could; His blood, 'tis said,
Down dropping, dyed her tender bosom red.
Since then no wanton boy disturbs her nest;
Weasel nor wild cat will her young molest;
All sacred deem the bird of ruddy breast.
--from The Redbreast--A Breton Legend, in "English Lyrics"
Friday, April 13, 2012
Thursday, April 12, 2012
Monday, April 9, 2012
Friday, March 30, 2012
Wednesday, March 28, 2012
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