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.

To warm their little loves the birds complain.

To warm their little loves the birds complain.

Birds of a feather will gather together.

Birds of a feather will gather together.

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.

That which prevents disagreeable flies from feeding on your
repast, was once the proud tail of a splendid bird.

That which prevents disagreeable flies from feeding on your
repast, was once the proud tail of a splendid bird.

Fish got to swim and birds got to fly
I got to love one man till I die,
read more

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.

Birdes of a feather will flocke togither.

Birdes of a feather will flocke togither.

Do you ne'er think what wondrous beings these?
Do you ne'er think who made them, and who taught
read more

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,

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.]