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<div style="background:#fff;border:#bbb dashed 1px;padding:5px"><a href="http://en.citatepedia.ro/comments.php?id=357762" style="color:#000;text-decoration:none"><div style="margin:10px 0"><strong>Red Robin</strong></div><div style="margin:10px 0">Hi, it's a funny world! This mornin' when I woke<br>I saw red robin on the fence, an' heard the words he spoke.<br>Red robin, he's a perky chap, an' this was his refrain:<br>'Dear, it's a pity that poor Jenny is so plain.'</div><div style="margin:10px 0">To talk like that about his wife! It had me scandalized.<br>I'd heard him singin' so before, but never recognised<br>The meaning of his chatter, or that he could be so vain:<br>'Dear, it's a pity that poor Jenny is so plain.'</div><div style="margin:10px 0">I don't know how, I don't know why, but this reminded me<br>I was promised to the widow for this Sunday night to tea.<br>I'd promised her for weeks an' weeks, until she pinned me down.<br>I recollects this is the day, an' gets up with a frown.</div><div style="margin:10px 0">I was thinkin' of the widow while I gets me clobber on -<br>Like a feller will start thinkin' of the times that's past an' gone.<br>An', while my thoughts is runnin' so, that bird chips in again:<br>'Dear, it's a pity that poor Jenny is so plain.'</div><div style="margin:10px 0">Now, the widow's name is Jenny, an' it strikes me sort of queer<br>That my thoughts should be upon her when that robin's song I hear.<br>She ain't so homely neither; but she never could compare<br>With a certain bonzer vision with the sunlight in her hair.</div><div style="margin:10px 0">When I wander down that evenin', she come smilin' to the gate,<br>An' her look is calculatin', as she scolds because I'm late.<br>She takes my hat an' sits me down an' heaves a little sigh.<br>But I get a queer sensation from that glimmer in her eye.</div><div style="margin:10px 0">She starts to talk about the mill, an' then about the strike,<br>An' then she digs Ben Murray up an' treats him nasty-like;<br>She treats him crool an' cattish, as them soft, sweet women can.<br>But I ups an' tells her plainly that I think Ben is a man.</div><div style="margin:10px 0">First round to me. But she comes back, an' says Ben is a cad<br>Who's made a laughin'-stock of her, an' treated her reel bad.<br>I twig she's out for sympathy; so counters that, an' says<br>That Ben's a broken-hearted man about the mill these days.</div><div style="margin:10px 0">The second round to me on points; an' I was havin' hopes.<br>(I might have known that widows were familiar with the ropes.)<br>'But he'd never make a husband!' says the widow, with a sigh.<br>An' again I gets a warnin' from that glimmer in her eye.</div><div style="margin:10px 0">I says I ain't no judge of that; an' treats it with a laugh.<br>But she keeps the talk on 'usbands for a minute an' a half.<br>I can't do much but spar a bit, an' keep her out of range;<br>So the third round is the widow's; an' the fight takes on a change.</div><div style="margin:10px 0">I'm longin' for a breather, for I've done my nerve a lot,<br>When suddenly she starts on 'Love,' an' makes the pace reel hot.<br>In half a jiff she has me on the ropes, an' breathin' hard,<br>With not a fight inside me - I can only duck an' guard.</div><div style="margin:10px 0">She uppercuts me with a sigh, an' jabs me with a glance.<br>(When a widow is the fighter, has a single bloke a chance?)<br>Her short-arm blows are amorous, most lovin' is her lunge;<br>Until it's just a touch an' go I don't throw up the sponge.</div><div style="margin:10px 0">I use my head-piece here a bit to wriggle from the fix;<br>For the widow is a winner 'less I fluke a win by tricks.<br>An' I lets a reel mean notion (that I don't seek to excuse),<br>when I interrupts her rudely with, 'But have you heard the news?'</div><div style="margin:10px 0">Now, to a woman, that's a lead dead certain of a score,<br>An' a question that the keenest is unable to ignore.<br>An' good old Curiosity comes in to second me,<br>As I saw her struggle hopeless, an' 'What news is that?' says she. </div><div style="margin:10px 0">An' here I spins a lovely yarn, a gloomy hard-luck tale<br>Of how I've done my money in, an' I'm about to fail,<br>How my house an' land is mortgaged, how I've muddled my affairs<br>Through foolin' round with racin' bets and rotten minin' shares.</div><div style="margin:10px 0">I saw the fight was easy mine the minute I begun;<br>An', after half a dozen words, the time-keep counted 'One.'<br>An' when I finish that sad tale there ain't the slightest doubt<br>I am winner of the contest, an' the widow's down an' out.</div><div style="margin:10px 0">But not for long. Although she's lost, the widow is dead game:<br>'I'm sorry, Mister Jim,' says she, 'for both your loss an' shame.<br>All things is changed between us now, of course; the past is dead.<br>An' what you were about to say you please will leave unsaid.'</div><div style="margin:10px 0"> . . . . . . . . . .</div><div style="margin:10px 0">I was thinkin' in the evenin' over how I had escaped,<br>An' how the widow took it all - the way she stared an' gaped.<br>She looked her plainest at that time; but that don't matter now;<br>For, plain or fair, I know of one who's fairer, anyhow.</div><div style="margin:10px 0">I tells meself that beauty ain't a thing to count with man,<br>An' I would never choose a wife on that unthinkin' plan.<br>No robin was awake, I swear; but still I heard that strain;<br>'Dear, it's a pity that poor Jenny is so plain.'</div><div style="margin:10px 0"><br /></a><br />poem by <a href="http://en.citatepedia.ro/by.php?a=Clarence+Michael+James+Stanislaus+Dennis">Clarence Michael James Stanislaus Dennis</a><div class=q>
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<script type="text/javascript" src="//s7.addthis.com/js/300/addthis_widget.js#pubid=citatepedia" async="async"></script><div style="display:inline-block" class="addthis_sharing_toolbox" data-url="http://en.citatepedia.ro/comments.php?id=357762" data-title="Red Robin de Clarence Michael James Stanislaus Dennis" data-description="Hi, it's a funny world! This mornin' when I woke
I saw red robin on the fence, an' heard the words he spoke.
Red robin, he's a perky chap, an' this was his refrain:
'Dear, it's a pity that poor Jenny is so plain.'

To talk like that about his wife..."></div>
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