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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.
Better one byrde in hand than ten in the wood.
Better one byrde in hand than ten in the wood.
Do you ne'er think what wondrous beings these?
Do you ne'er think who made them, and who taught
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Do you ne'er think what wondrous beings these?
Do you ne'er think who made them, and who taught
The dialect they speak, where melodies
Alone are the interpreters of thought?
Whose household words are songs in many keys,
Sweeter than instrument of man e'er caught!
- Henry Wadsworth Longfellow,
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.
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?
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.
A bird in the hand is worth two in the bush.
A bird in the hand is worth two in the bush.
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.
