Sarah Trimmer,
The Story of the Robins
(1873)
“ No, my beloved nestlings, never will your wretched father be at liberty to guide your flight and instruct you in your duty." Here his voice faltered, and overcome with bitter reflections, he resigned himself a prey to silent sorrow. "This dove is not happy, however," said the hen redbreast to her mate, "and no wonder; but let us attend to the notes of that lark." His eyes were turned up towards the sky, he fluttered his wings, he strained his throat, and would, to a human eye, have appeared in raptures of joy; but the redbreasts perceived that he was inflamed with rage. ”
