by Rebecca Salsbury Palfrey Utter

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: In honor of Burrough’s first book - Wake-Robin, I found this little-known poem by Rebecca Salsbury Palfrey Utter 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 popular poems. Rebecca was a descendant of Gene Williams Palfrey who served with George Washington and he was also an ambassador to France.


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