Gay Robin is seen no more: 
He is gone with the snow, 
For winter is o'er 
And Robin will go. 
In need he was fed, and now he is fled 
Away to his secret nest. 
No more will he stand 
Begging for crumbs, 
No longer he comes 
Beseeching our hand 
And showing his breast 
At window and door ; 
Gay Robin is seen no more. 

Blithe Robin is heard no more: 
He gave us his song 
When summer was o'er 
And winter was long : 
He sang for his bread and now he is fled 
Away to his secret nest. 
And there in the green 
Early and late 
Alone to his mate 
He pipeth unseen 
And swelleth his breast. 
For us it is o'er, 
Blithe Robin is heard no more.