The Merry Robin

From the Evening Star, April 1, 1915. By Philander Johnson.

A robin sat upon a limb,
    A-singin’ very jolly.
“Oh bird,” sez I, I sez to him,
    “You should be melancholy!

“You haven’t any children small,
    No friends nor no relations;
You’ve got no certainty at all
    Of lodgin’ or of rations.

“You haven’t got no place to went,
    You loafer in a tree, you!
Or if you have, I bet a cent
    No one is glad to see you.”

The robin stopped his song an’ said,
    “Excuse me while I snicker.
It is the narrow life you’ve led
    That makes you such a kicker.

“This limb I sit on ain’t so fine
    And scant is my apparel;
A simple sort o’ feed is mine,
    And yet I love to carol.

“While thinkin’ on my state of ease
    My soul in song relaxes.
I go an’ come jest when I please
    An’ never pay no taxes.”