(To my sister Emma.)
I've just seen the first robin of spring, Emma,
And he's warbling a sweet little song,
Bringing back tender mem'ries of you, Emma,
And of joys that to childhood belong.
He was singing a song to his mate, Emma,
A sweet song of happiness and love,
And it echoed thro' woodland and dale, Emma,
Over valley and hilltop and grove.