The red robin asks-

“What’s new? What’s new?”

The answer is simple-

Your wine is askew,

To womble and tumble yet spill not a drop,

And the angel in comfort,

Takes a bit off the top,

The king lifts his cup,

To take what is offered,

While the priest sits in cowls,

His flock left to howl,

But where you might ask,

Stand the good people,

Like a babe on a teet,

Their minds are yet feeble,

And the knight looks towards dawn,

Its light teasing fauns,

Who wish but for dusk,

To avoid all the rush,

And the lark in the hay,

Dreams only for may,

When the sun is yet warm,

When the dresses are torn,

‘Fore winter has struck,

The babes born in muck,

So foolish the robin,

To ask what is new,

When the answer can only,

Be known by you