You May Also Like / View all maxioms
Every bird that upwards swings
Bears the Cross upon its wings.
Every bird that upwards swings
Bears the Cross upon its wings.
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!
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.
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.
To warm their little loves the birds complain.
To warm their little loves the birds complain.
You must not think, sir, to catch old birds with chaff.
You must not think, sir, to catch old birds with chaff.
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.
