Robins

The redbreast oft, at evening hours,
Shall kindly lend his little aid,
With hoary moss, and gathered flowers,
To deck the ground where thou art getting laid.

Robins are small insectivorous passerine birds, specifically a chat, that was formerly classed as a member of the thrush family (Turdidae), but is now considered to be an Old World flycatcher. They are generally known for having a red breast.

Quotes

• You have learned, like Sir Proteus, to wreathe your arms, like a malcontent; to relish a love-song, like a robin redbreast.
  • William Shakespeare, The Two Gentlemen of Verona (1590s), Act II, scene 1, line 16.

• The Redbreast, sacred to the household gods,
  Wisely regardful of the embroiling sky,
  In joyless fields and thorny thickets leaves
  His shivering mates, and pays to trusted Man
  His annual visit.
  • James Thomson, The Seasons, Winter (1726), line 246.

• Call for the robin-red-breast, and the wren,
  Since o'er shady groves they hover,
  And with leaves and flowers do cover
  The friendless bodies of unburied men.
  • John Webster, The White Devil, or Vittoria Corombona, A Dirge (1612).

Hoyt's New Cyclopedia Of Practical Quotations

Quotes reported in Hoyt's New Cyclopedia Of Practical Quotations (1922), p. 676.

• The redbreast oft, at evening hours,
  Shall kindly lend his little aid,
  With hoary moss, and gathered flowers,
  To deck the ground where thou art laid.
  • William Collins, Odes, Dirge in Cymbeline.

• Bearing His cross, while Christ passed forth forlorn,
  His God-like forehead by the mock crown torn,
  A little bird took from that crown one thorn.
  To soothe the dear Redeemer's throbbing head,
  That bird did what she could; His blood, 'tis said.
  Down dropping, dyed her tender bosom red.
  Since then no wanton boy disturbs her nest;
  Weasel nor wild cat will her young molest;
  All sacred deem the bird of ruddy breast.
  • Anthony Leigh Egerton Hoskyns-Abrahall, The Redbreast, A Bréton Legend; in English Lyrics.

• On fair Britannia's isle, bright bird,
  A legend strange is told of thee.—
  'Tis said thy blithesome song was hushed
  While Christ toiled up Mount Calvary,
  Bowed 'neath the sins of all mankind;
  And humbled to the very dust
  By the vile cross, while viler men
  Mocked with a crown of thorns the Just.
  Pierced by our sorrows, and weighed down
  By our transgressions,—faint and weak,
  Crushed by an angry Judge's frown,
  And agonies no word can speak,—
  'Twas then, dear bird, the legend says
  That thou, from out His crown, didst tear
  The thorns, to lighten the distress,
  And ease the pain that he must bear,
  While pendant from thy tiny beak
  The gory points thy bosom pressed,
  And crimsoned with thy Saviour's blood
  The sober brownness of thy breast!
  Since which proud hour for thee and thine.
  As an especial sign of grace
  God pours like sacramental wine
  Red signs of favor o'er thy race!
  • Delle W. Norton, To the Robin Redbreast.

The sober brownness of thy breast! Delle W. Norton, To the Robin Redbreast

Art thou the bird whom Man loves best,
The pious bird with the scarlet breast,
Our little English Robin;
The bird that comes about our doors
When autumn winds are sobbing?
~ William Wordsworth

• Art thou the bird whom Man loves best,
  The pious bird with the scarlet breast,
  Our little English Robin;
  The bird that comes about our doors
  When autumn winds are sobbing?
  • William Wordsworth, The Redbreast Chasing the Butterfly.

• Stay, little cheerful Robin! stay,
  And at my casement sing,
  Though it should prove a farewell lay
  And this our parting spring.
  * * * * *
  Then, little Bird, this boon confer,
  Come, and my requiem sing,
  Nor fail to be the harbinger
  Of everlasting spring.
  • William Wordsworth, To a Redbreast, In Sickness.