When robins remain while others so programmed pass on oppress,
Morn and eve, voice their lives' joy in majestic rustic underdress;
Southward winging passerines come again near fall chilling time,
Still, a few thrushes stay and can but sing known songs sublime.
Sojourners risk as sure uncertainty for faith is blind obedience;
Grounding to these woods with need no more of moving, hence,
Robins bring happiness to a place and more arrive by May;
Glad when then it is in their driving genes to go, they stay.

