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Better one byrde in hand than ten in the wood.
Better one byrde in hand than ten in the wood.
Shoot all the bluejays you want, if you can hit 'em, but remember
it's a sin to kill a read more
Shoot all the bluejays you want, if you can hit 'em, but remember
it's a sin to kill a mockingbird.
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.
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!
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.
Ghastly, grim, and ancient Raven, wandering from the Nightly
shore,--
Tell me what thy lordly name is on read more
Ghastly, grim, and ancient Raven, wandering from the Nightly
shore,--
Tell me what thy lordly name is on the Night's Plutonian shore!
Quoth the Raven "Nevermore!"
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.]
When the swallows homeward fly,
When the roses scattered lie,
When from neither hill or dale,
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When the swallows homeward fly,
When the roses scattered lie,
When from neither hill or dale,
Chants the silvery nightingale:
In these works my bleeding heart
Would to thee its brief impart;
When I thus thy image lose
Can I, ah! can I, e'er know repose?