A bird in the hand is worth two in the bush.

A bird in the hand is worth two in the bush.

The Raven's house is built with reeds,--
Sing woe, and alas is me!
And the Raven's couch read more

The Raven's house is built with reeds,--
Sing woe, and alas is me!
And the Raven's couch is spread with weeds,
High on the hollow tree;
And the Raven himself, telling his beads
In penance for his past misdeeds,
Upon the top I see.

Never look for birds of this year in the nests of the last.

Never look for birds of this year in the nests of the last.

I was always a lover of soft-winged things.

I was always a lover of soft-winged things.

Over increasingly large areas of the United States, spring now
comes unheralded by the return of the birds, and read more

Over increasingly large areas of the United States, spring now
comes unheralded by the return of the birds, and the early
mornings are strangely silent where once they were filled with
the beauty of bird song.

Every bird that upwards swings
Bears the Cross upon its wings.

Every bird that upwards swings
Bears the Cross upon its wings.

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.

Thou said'st--O, it comes o'er my memory
As doth the raven o'er the infected house,
Boding to read more

Thou said'st--O, it comes o'er my memory
As doth the raven o'er the infected house,
Boding to all!--He had my handkerchief.

The nightingale has a lyre of gold,
The lark's is a clarion call,
And the blackbird plays read more

The nightingale has a lyre of gold,
The lark's is a clarion call,
And the blackbird plays but a boxwood flute,
But I love him best of all.
For his song is all the joy of life,
And we in the mad spring weather,
We two have listened till he sang
Our hearts and lips together.