Robin Redbreast

What’s this that from a naked branch I spy?
Like a burning bush, the tree does shimmer,
Lighting the frosty, wintry sky
A bright red this mid December.


What tiny creature caught my eye,
On this morn in mid December,
Making my heart beat and sigh;
Warming my soul with its scarlet ember?

Suddenly I did remember;
I found myself in Bethlehem that day.
Robin flapped its wings to light the embers
To keep a poor baby warm, lying on the hay.

Alas, the robin redbreast burnt its breast;
Mary, in Thanksgiving, this robin blessed.