James Montgomery

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.

When evening closes Nature's eye,
The glow-worm lights her little spark
To captivate her favorite fly
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When evening closes Nature's eye,
The glow-worm lights her little spark
To captivate her favorite fly
And tempt the rover through the dark.

The violets were past their prime,
Yet their departing breath
Was sweeter, in the blast of death,
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The violets were past their prime,
Yet their departing breath
Was sweeter, in the blast of death,
Than all the lavish fragrance of the time.

Nimbly they seized and secreted their prey,
Alive and wriggling in the elastic net,
Which Nature hung read more

Nimbly they seized and secreted their prey,
Alive and wriggling in the elastic net,
Which Nature hung beneath their grasping beaks;
Till, swoln, with captures, the unwieldy burden
Clogg'd their slow flight, as heavily to land,
These mighty hunters of the deep return'd.
There on the cragged cliffs they perch'd at ease,
Gorging their hapless victims one by one;
Then full and weary, side by side, they slept,
Till evening roused them to the chase again.

The Dove,
On silver pinions, winged her peaceful way.

The Dove,
On silver pinions, winged her peaceful way.