Poor Ragged Robin bends his head Dejected in the flower bed: “Why was I made like this to dress?” (His tears he scarcely can repress) — "My seed forever homely grow; Why was I planted in this row, A ragged ugly kind of show, Where handsome plants in fine array Can see my poverty and say, ‘Look at the Ragged Robin there; He never has had much to wear!’ ”
Here a ragged robin, a scruffy-looking wildflower with shaggy pink petals, sits in a garden bed and feels sorry for himself. Anna M. Johnson gives him a voice, and what he says is the familiar cry of someone who thinks he doesn't measure up. He wonders why he was made so plain, why he was planted in this particular row, and why he has to be seen by all the "handsome plants in fine array." The worst part is imagined mockery: the other flowers, he assumes, look at his "poverty" and whisper that he has nothing much to wear.
The mood is gently sad, but not heavy. The jingling rhymes and the idea of a flower with tears in his eyes give the poem a light, almost comic touch, even as it taps into a real feeling of being the odd one out. Notice that the cruel comments are only what Robin thinks others will say, which suggests his shame may be partly his own worry.