Through the southern mountains the Robin is often called the "Christ
Bird" because of this legend. It is also called "Love Bird."
The Savior hung upon the cross,
His body racked with mortal pain;
The blood flowed from His precious wounds
And sweat dropped from His brow like rain.
A crown of thorns was on His head,
The bitter cup He meekly sips;
His life is ebbing fast away,
A prayer upon His blessed lips.
No mercy found He anywhere,
He said, "My Father knoweth best."
A little bird came fluttering down
And hovered near his bleeding breast.
It fanned His brow with gentle wings,
Into the cup it dipped its beak;
And gazed in pity while He hung
And bore His pain so calm and meek.
At last the bird it flew away
And sought the shelter of its nest;
Its feathers dyed with crimson stain,
The Savior's blood upon its breast.
The lowly robin, so 'tis said,
That comes to us in early spring,
Is that which hovered near the cross
And wears for aye that crimson stain.
--Martha Creech