"Come with Thy Sweet Voice Again"

There's many a ""Robin,"" a ""big gellied Ben"
Who eats ""more victuals than three score men,,
Who spends his life days in robbin' the poor
No better a Robin than this one, I'm sure.
But creeping and fliying are different things;
  When they who now suffer and fall
 Have arizen
When they've risen again in their beautiful wings
 May give him another call
[?] And hover and flutter around and above [?him]
And keep and the light of the hearts that love him
Till he pick up his crumbs less happy less free
Than the robin who sat in the sycamore tree.

With his delicate wings on their edges thin
Looking dull on the outside and [?] within
ever  Turning up all kinds of fanciful [?tints]
 tempting and
Like a sample book full of calico [?prints]

With his delicate wings on their edges thin
Looking dull on the outside and gaudy within
Ever turning up tempting and fanciful tints
Like a specimen-book full of calico prints