A speaker cherishes a bird that sings for her in spring, but when summer brings roses, the robin disappears. At first, this feels like a personal slight—spring itself seems to lure the bird away. Instead of grieving, she insists she will not “repine,” because she trusts the bird is learning a new, richer melody beyond the sea and will eventually fly back. As the poem deepens, the bird becomes a figure for any beloved presence now absent—perhaps a friend or a soul who has died. The speaker’s “doubting heart” is quieted by the thought that those she loves are held in a truer, safer land. She envisions a “serener Bright,” a golden light where every doubt and discord dissolves. The mood is intimate and calm, moving from poignant loss into a hushed, almost prayerful confidence. There’s no bitterness, only a tender waiting—a belief that what is lost will return in a more beautiful form.
I have a Bird in spring — Summary
I have a Bird in spring Which for myself doth sing -- The spring decoys. And as the summer nears -- And as the Rose appears, Robin is gone.
Yet do I not repine Knowing that Bird of mine Though flown -- Learneth beyond the sea Melody new for me And will return.
Fast is a safer hand Held in a truer Land Are mine -- And though they now depart, Tell I my doubting heart They're thine.
In a serener Bright, In a more golden light I see Each little doubt and fear, Each little discord here Removed.
Then will I not repine, Knowing that Bird of mine Though flown Shall in a distant tree Bright melody for me Return.