The Wake Robin

When leaves green and hardy 
From sleep have just uncurled — 
Spring is so tardy 
In this part of the world — 
There comes a white flower forth, 
Opens its eyes, 
Looks out upon the earth, 
In drowsy surprise.

A fair and pleasant vision 
The nodding blossoms make; 
And the flower's name and mission 
Is "Wake, robin, wake!” 
But you're late, my lady, 
You have not earned your name; 
Robin's up already, 
Long before you came.

You trusted the sun's glances, 
To rouse you from your naps;
Or the brook that near you dances 
At spring's approach, perhaps; 
Your chamber was too shady, 
The drooping trees among; 
Robin's up already, 
Don't you hear his song?

There he sits, swinging, ‘ 
In his brown and scarlet cloak, 
His notes like laughter ringing; 
'Tis plain he sees the joke. 
"Accidents will happen,” 
Laughs robin loud and clear;
" If you think to catch me napping, 
Wake earlier next year! "

Note:

To honor John Burrough's first book, Wake-Robin, I share this little-known poem by Rebecca Salsbury Palfrey Utter (Books by this author) called The Wake-Robin.

Rebecca was the wife of a Chicago minister named David Utter.

She was a selfless missionary who coined the term "Daughter of the King" in one of her more famous poems.

Rebecca was a descendant of Gene Williams Palfrey, who served with George Washington and was ambassador to France.