To warm their little loves the birds complain.

To warm their little loves the birds complain.

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 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.

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

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

Birdes of a feather will flocke togither.

Birdes of a feather will flocke togither.

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.

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.

Better one byrde in hand than ten in the wood.

Better one byrde in hand than ten in the wood.

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.