Welcome, pretty little stranger!
Welcome to my lone retreat!
Here, secure from every danger,
Hop about, and chirp, and eat:
Robin! how I envy thee,
Happy child of Liberty!

Now, though tyrant Winter, howling,
Shakes the world with tempests round,
Heaven above with vapours scowling,
Frost imprisons all the ground;—
Robin! what are these to thee?
Thou art blest with liberty.

Though yon fair majestic river
Mourns in solid icy chains;
Though yon flocks and cattle shiver,
On the desolated plains;—
Robin! thou art gay and free,
Happy in thy liberty.

Hunger never shall distress thee,
While my cates one crumb afford;
Colds nor cramps shall e'er oppress thee;
Come and share my humble board:
Robin! come and live with me,
Live—yet still at liberty.

Soon shall Spring in smiles and blushes
Steal upon the blooming year;
Then, amid the enamour'd bushes,
Thy sweet song shall warble clear;
Then shall I, too, join'd with thee,
Swell the Hymn of Liberty.

Should some rough unfeeling Dobbin,
In this iron-hearted age,
Seize thee on thy nest, my Robin!
And confine thee in a cage,
Then, poor prisoner! think of me,
Think—and sigh for liberty.