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Thou little bird, thou dweller by the sea,
Why takest thou its melancholy voice,
And with that read more
Thou little bird, thou dweller by the sea,
Why takest thou its melancholy voice,
And with that boding cry
Along the waves dost thou fly?
Oh! rather, bird, with me
Through this fair land rejoice!
I heard a bird so sing,
Whose music, to my thinking, pleased the king.
I heard a bird so sing,
Whose music, to my thinking, pleased the king.
He is a fool who lets slip a bird in the hand for a bird in the
bush.
He is a fool who lets slip a bird in the hand for a bird in the
bush.
The woosel cock so black of hue,
With orange-tawny bill,
The throstle with his note so true,
read more
The woosel cock so black of hue,
With orange-tawny bill,
The throstle with his note so true,
The wren with little quill--
. . . .
The finch, the sparrow, and the lark,
The plain-song cuckoo grey,
Whose note full many a man doth mark,
And dares not answer nay.
A rare bird upon the earth, and exceedingly like a black swan.
[Lat., Rara avis in terris, nigroque simillima read more
A rare bird upon the earth, and exceedingly like a black swan.
[Lat., Rara avis in terris, nigroque simillima cygno.]
A feather in hand is better then a bird in the ayre.
[A feather in hand is better than read more
A feather in hand is better then a bird in the ayre.
[A feather in hand is better than a bird in the air.]
Hear how the birds, on ev'ry blooming spray,
With joyous musick wake the dawning day.
Hear how the birds, on ev'ry blooming spray,
With joyous musick wake the dawning day.
Do you ne'er think what wondrous beings these?
Do you ne'er think who made them, and who taught
read more
Do you ne'er think what wondrous beings these?
Do you ne'er think who made them, and who taught
The dialect they speak, where melodies
Alone are the interpreters of thought?
Whose household words are songs in many keys,
Sweeter than instrument of man e'er caught!
- Henry Wadsworth Longfellow,
