Birds of a feather will gather together.

Birds of a feather will gather together.

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.

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.

Fish got to swim and birds got to fly
I got to love one man till I die,
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Fish got to swim and birds got to fly
I got to love one man till I die,
Can't help lovin' dat man of mine.

A feather in hand is better then a bird in the ayre.
[A feather in hand is better than read more

A feather in hand is better then a bird in the ayre.
[A feather in hand is better than a bird in the air.]

That byrd ys nat honest
That fylythe hys owne nest.

That byrd ys nat honest
That fylythe hys owne nest.

You must not think, sir, to catch old birds with chaff.

You must not think, sir, to catch old birds with chaff.

When the swallows homeward fly,
When the roses scattered lie,
When from neither hill or dale,
read more

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?

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.