The Robin. By Emily Dickinson

    The robin is the one
    That interrupts the morn
    With hurried, few, express reports
    When March is scarcely on.

    The robin is the one
    That overflows the noon
    With her cherubic quantity,
    An April but begun.

    The robin is the one
    That speechless from her nest
    Submits that home and certainty
    And sanctity are best.