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 The woosel cock so black of hue,
 With orange-tawny bill,
  The throstle with his note so true,
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 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. 
 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? 
Birds of a feather will gather together.
Birds of a feather will gather together.
 The bird
 That glads the night had cheer'd the listening groves with sweet 
complainings.  
 The bird
 That glads the night had cheer'd the listening groves with sweet 
complainings. 
 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. 
 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. 
 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. 
 Curse not the king, no not in thy thought; and curse not the rich 
in thy bedchamber; for a read more 
 Curse not the king, no not in thy thought; and curse not the rich 
in thy bedchamber; for a bird of the air shall carry the voice, 
and that which hath wings shall tell the matter. 
 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.