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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 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.
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?
Birds of a feather will gather together.
Birds of a feather will gather together.
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.
That byrd ys nat honest
That fylythe hys owne nest.
That byrd ys nat honest
That fylythe hys owne nest.
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.
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.
