"Who killed Cock Robin?" "I," said the Sparrow,
"With my bow and arrow, I killed Cock Robin."
"Who saw him die?" "I," said the Fly,
"With my little eye, I saw him die."
"Who caught his blood?" "I," said the Fish,
"With my little dish, I caught his blood."
"Who'll make the shroud?" "I," said the Beetle,
"With my thread and needle, I'll make the shroud."
"Who'll dig his grave?" "I," said the Owl,
"With my pick and shovel, I'll dig his grave."
"Who'll be the parson?" "I," said the Rook,
"With my little book, I'll be the parson."
"Who'll be the clerk?" "I," said the Lark,
"If it's not in the dark, I'll be the clerk."
"Who'll carry the link?" "I," said the Linnet,
"I'll fetch it in a minute, I'll carry the link."
"Who'll be chief mourner?" "I," said the Dove,
"I mourn for my love, I'll be chief mourner."
"Who'll carry the coffin?" "I," said the Kite,
"If it's not through the night, I'll carry the coffin."
"Who'll bear the pall? "We," said the Wren,
"Both the cock and the hen, we'll bear the pall."
"Who'll sing a psalm?" "I," said the Thrush,
"As she sat on a bush, I'll sing a psalm."
"Who'll toll the bell?" "I," said the bull,
"Because I can pull, I'll toll the bell."
All the birds of the air fell a-sighing and a-sobbing,
When they heard the bell toll for poor Cock Robin.
This poor little bird was dropped outside the bedroom door at about 11.45 last night by Tiger. We had heard her scurrying around like she was playing, and had been about to get up and investigate when she appeared. I think the bird was dead when she got it, probably killed by Lily. Poor little bird. Cats can't help it I suppose but I wish they would stick to their toys. I don't tell them off though as they think they are being good. I don't know what kind of bird it is-it looks very young and has really lovely markings. Quite beautiful, so I took pictures. I remember the Cock Robin poem from when I was little and we had a beautifully illustrated copy of it. It gives me a strange feeling which I can't put into words. I like the way all the animals help to mourn Cock Robin and the feeling of sadness of all the birds 'a-sighing and a-sobbing'. This bird is in an eggbox awaiting burial which I will do tomorrow as I didn't find time today. I'll bear the eggbox, and I will dig the hole.
8 comments:
"Yes, Sweetie. Mommy loves her present. Really."
Poor little bird though.
Hi Sarah, sorry I've been a.w.o.l. I'll be back from now on.
Kat
Wish it was possible to stop cats doing this. The cat next door killed a wren which had built a nest nearby and which I had been watching.
It could be a starling I think, poor little thing x
Very sad that the kitties go after birds. Mine does all the time and I chase her with the broom trying to get her to drop the bird to give it a chance to fly away.
BUT when she brings home a rat or a mouse I cheer her on and thank her for being such a good hunter.
Poor thing must be a bit confused!
Your photo is really lovely and very touching with the poem.
Poor little thing! I always liked that poem when I was little - although I couldn't recite it all the way through anymore.
Nature --red in tooth and claw.
But still so very sad.
Amazingly touching photographs.
I've had that song running through my head recently but for different reasons. The robins are singing their hearts out lately - all staking their territorial claims.
I know what you mean about cats but as you say they're only doing what comes naturally. If it had been a sparrowhawk there would only have been a pile of feathers to mark the little bird's passing.
When I was studying a while back one of my lecturers said something along the lines of... if the RSPB really wanted to protect birds they would talk more often about domestic cats and their effect on bird populations. They don't, he said, because cat lovers would not take this well and the society would probably lose backers...
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