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  29  /  24  

The lark now leaves his watery nest,
And climbing, shakes his dewy wings.
He takes your window read more

The lark now leaves his watery nest,
And climbing, shakes his dewy wings.
He takes your window for the East
And to implore your light he sings.

by Sir William Davenant Found in: Larks Quotes,
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  17  /  20  

Musical cherub, soar, singing, away!
Then, when the gloaming comes,
Low in the heather blooms
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Musical cherub, soar, singing, away!
Then, when the gloaming comes,
Low in the heather blooms
Sweet will thy welcome and bed of love be!
Emblem of happiness,
Blest is thy swelling-place--
O, to abide in the desert with thee!

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  24  /  43  

Rise with the lark, and with the lark to bed.

Rise with the lark, and with the lark to bed.

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  15  /  19  

Then my dial goes not true; I look this lark for a bunting.

Then my dial goes not true; I look this lark for a bunting.

by William Shakespeare Found in: Larks Quotes,
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  12  /  19  

I said to the sky-poised Lark:
"Hark--hark!
Thy note is more loud and free
read more

I said to the sky-poised Lark:
"Hark--hark!
Thy note is more loud and free
Because there lies safe for thee
A little nest on the ground."

by Found in: Larks Quotes,
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  15  /  21  

No more the mounting larks, while Daphne sings,
Shall, list'ning, in mid-air suspend their wings.

No more the mounting larks, while Daphne sings,
Shall, list'ning, in mid-air suspend their wings.

by Alexander Pope Found in: Larks Quotes,
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  14  /  27  

It was the lark, the herald of the morn;
No nightingale.

It was the lark, the herald of the morn;
No nightingale.

by William Shakespeare Found in: Larks Quotes,
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  18  /  17  

The bird that soars on highest wing,
Builds on the ground her lowly nest;
And she that read more

The bird that soars on highest wing,
Builds on the ground her lowly nest;
And she that doth most sweetly sing,
Sings in the shade when all things rest:
In lark and nightingale we see
What honor hath humility.

by James Montgomery Found in: Larks Quotes,
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  27  /  21  

Lo, here the gentle lark, weary of rest,
From his moist cabinet mounts up on high
And read more

Lo, here the gentle lark, weary of rest,
From his moist cabinet mounts up on high
And wakes the morning, from whose silver breast
The sun ariseth in his majesty;
Who doth the world so gloriously behold
That cedar tops and hills seem burnished gold.

by William Shakespeare Found in: Larks Quotes,
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