Legend of the robin's red breast

Oh have you heard this story it happened long ago
When Christ our blessed Savior was here on earth below
An echo through the ages from distant Calvary
I'll tell it to you simply as it was told to me

It breathes the blessed teaching of God's own holy word
A lesson taught in meekness by a lowly little bird
When Jesus hung in sorrow our debt of shame to pay
No one was there to comfort or wipe His tears away
A little bird flew near Him in sober coat of brown
And gazed in tender pity then slowly fluttered down

With gentle wings it fanned Him to cool His aching head
And hovered near His bosom all stained with deepest red
At last when all was ended as if to morn his loss
It rose with blood stained feathers and circled around the cross

It flew away in sadness and to this day tis said
It wears upon its bosom that stain of crimson red
When I shall cross the valley and go to seek my rest
May I wear like the robin God's sign upon my breast