title: On a Robin's being taken in a young Lady's Bed-Chamber
author: Henry Livingston Jr.
date: 1788
source: American Magazine (New York), Oct 1788, p. 815, signed "New-York, Oct. 20, 1788"; site tier "could be Henry's". URL: https://www.henrylivingston.com/writing/poetry/robin.htm (fetched via https://web.archive.org/web/20250522014528/https://www.henrylivingston.com/writing/poetry/robin.htm)
form: iambic 4/3 (common meter quatrains)
lines: 36
attribution: doubtful
notes: Light. Attributed by the site on style alone (appeared beside his Deity rebus in the same magazine). Site heading/headnote: On a ROBIN's being taken | in a young Lady's Bed-Chamber

On sportive pinions once I flew,
And rang'd the meadows round;
For me the peach and cherry grew,
No want, nor grief I found.

But short the date of pleasure is,
While sorrows long prevail.
Gone is the flattering scene of bliss--
Ah, hear my plaintive tale!

The fowler came with fatal art,
No friendly hand was nigh,
He pierc'd my bleeding lover's heart,
I saw him fall and die!

Deep in the bosom of a wood
I rear'd my chirping young;
For them I sought the sweetest food,
For them serenely sung.

A school boy saw the downy nest
Where all my treasure lay;
No pity touch'd his harden'd breast,
He stole my young away.

Of love and pleasure thus bereft
What can the wretched do?
What other refuge now is left?
For help I fly to you.

To you whose tender bosom knows
To feel for others' pain;
To whom the wretched tell their woes
Nor ever tell in vain.

By thy kind care and bounty fed
My griefs will lose their sting;
Again I'll raise my drooping head,
And plume my shatter'd wing.

Again I'll hail the rising day,
While pleasures round me throng;
And raise my sweetest notes, to pay
Thy bounties with my song.