You never hear the robins brag about the sweetness of their song,
nor do they stop their music gay whene’er a poor man comes along.
God taught them how to sing and when they’d learned the art,
He sent them here
to use their talents day by day, the dreary lives of men to cheer.
And rich or poor and sad or gay, the ugly and the fair to see,
can stop most anytime in June and hear the robins’ melody.
I stand and watch them in the sun using their gifts from day to day,
swelling their little throats with song, regardless of man’s praise or pay.
Just being robins, nothing else, nor claiming greatness for their deeds
but just content to gratify one of the big world’s many needs,
singing a lesson to us all to be ourselves and scatter cheer
by using every day the gifts God gave us when He sent us here.
Why should we keep our talents hid, or think we favor men because
we use the gifts that God has given? The robins never ask applause,
nor count themselves remarkable, nor strut in a superior way,
because their music sweeter is than that God gave unto the jay.
Only a man conceited grows as he makes use of talents fine,
forgetting that he merely does the working of the Will Divine.
Lord, as the robins, let me serve! Teach me to do the best I can
to make this world a better place, and happier for my fellow man.
If gift of mine can cheer his soul and hearten him along his way,
let me not keep that talent hid; I would make use of it today.
And since the robins ask no praise, nor pay for all their songs of cheer,
let me in humbleness rejoice to do my bit of service here.
From his book, Collected Verse of Edgar A Guest
© 1934 by The Reilly & Lee Company
Wondering about something to post for today’s Word Press daily prompt: heard, I opened up my volume of Edgar Guest poems and found this one. Not only does it suit the prompt, I thought, but it was a verse I needed to hear myself this morning.