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LAPWING. For look where Beatrice, like a lapwing, runs Close by the ground, to hear our conference. j. Much Ado About Nothing. Act III.
So. 1. LARK. Oh, stay, sweet warbling woodlark, stay, Nor quit for me the trembling spray; A hapless lover courts thy lay,
Thy soothing, fond complaining.
My falcon now is sharp, and passing empty; And, till she stoop, she must not be full
gorg'd, For then she never looks upon her lure. a. Taming of the Shrew. Act IV. Sc. 1.
Sc. 2. GULL, SEA. Lack-lustre eye, and idle wing, And smirched breast that skims no more, White as the foam itself, the wave-Hast thou not even a grave Upon the dreary shore, Forlorn, forsaken thing? €. D. M. MULOCK-A Dead Sea-Gull.
HAWK. The winds are pillow'd on the waveless deep, And from the curtain'd sky the midnight
moon Looks sombred o'er the forest depths, that
sleep Unstirring, while a soft, melodious tune Nature's own voice, the lapsing stream, is
heard, And ever and anon th'unseen, night-wander
ing bird. f. MOIR- The Night Hawk. Dost thou love hawking? thou hast hawks
will soar Above the morning lark. 5. Taming of the Shrew. Induction.
Sc. 2. JAY. What, is the jay more precious than the lark, Because his feathers are more beautiful? h. Taming of the Shrew. Act IV. Sc. 3.
Thou tells o' never-ending care,
Or my poor heart is broken!
Sts. 1 and 4.
Buckingham. Line 1.
m. Hogg The Skylark. Musical cherub, soar, singing, away!
Then, when the gloaming comes
Low in the heather blooms Sweet will thy welcome and bed of love be!
Emblem of happiness,
Blest is thy dwelling-place-
n. Hoog--The Skylark. Rise with the lark, and with the lark to bed.
0. HURDIS— The Village Curate.
p. LYLY--- The Songs of Birds.
q. MILTON-L'Allegro. Line 41. The bird that sings on highest wing,
Builds on the ground her lowly nest;
Sings in the shade when all things rest:
r.. MONTGOMERY-Humility. I said to the sky poised Lark:
A little nest on the ground."
KINGFISHER. She rears her young on yonder tree; She leaves her faithful mate to mind 'em; Like us, for fish, she sails to sea, And, plunging, shows us where to find 'em. Yo, ho, my hearts ! let's seek the deep, Ply every oar, and cheerly wish her, While the slow bending net we sweep, God bless the Fish-bank and the fisher! ALEXANDER WILSON -- The Fisherman's
No more the mounting larks, while Daphne Day had awakened all things that be, sings,
The larks and the thrush and the swallow Shall, list'ning in midair suspend their
And the milkmaid's song, and the mower's a. POPE— Winter. Line 53.
And the matin-bell, and the mountain bee. O earliest singer! ( care-charming bird!
I. SHELLEY—The Boat on the Serchio. Married to morning, by a sweeter hymn Than priest e'er chanted from his cloister dim
Sound of vernal showers At midnight,--or veiled virgin's holier word On the twinkling grass, At sunrise or the paler evening heard.
Rain-awakened flowers, b. PROCTER- The Flood of Thessaly.
All that ever was O happy skylark springing
Joyous, and clear, and fresh, thy music doth Up to the broad, blue sky,
m. Too fearless in thy winging,
SHELLEY—To a Skylark.
Up springs the lark,
Shrill-voiced and loud, the messenger of c. CHRISTINA G. ROSSETTI — Gone Forever.
morn; St 2.
Ere yet the shadows fly, he mounted sings
Amid the dawning clouds, and from their The sunrise wakes the lark to sing.
haunts d. CHRISTINA G. ROSSETTI — Bird Raptures. Calls up the tuneful nations.
Line 1. n. THOMSON- The Seasons. Spring. Hark! hark! the lark at heaven's gate sings,
Line 587. And Phoebus 'gins arise, His steeds to water at those springs
The lark sung loud; the music at his heart On chalic'd flowers that lies.
Had called him early; upward straight he e. Cymbeline-Act II. Sc. 3. Song.
And bore in nature's quire the merriest part, It is the lark that sings so out of tune,
As to the lake's broad shore my steps I bent. Straining harsh discords and unpleasing / 0. CHARLES (TENNYSON) TURNERsharps.
Sonnet. An April Day. f. Romeo and Juliet. Act III. Sc. 5. It was the lark, the herald of the morn.
The lark that shuns on lofty boughs to build
Her humble nest, lies silent in the field. g. Romeo and Juliet--Act III. Sc. 5.
p. WALLER— Of the Queen. Lo! here the gentle lark, weary of rest, From his moist cabinet mounts up on high, Come, let us seek the dewy lawns, And wakes the morning, from whose silver And watch the early lark arise. breast
9. WHITE— Pastoral Song. The sun ariseth in his majesty. h. Venus and Adonis-Line 853.
Ethereal minstrel! pilgrim of the sky! Some say, that ever 'gainst that season
Dost thou despise the earth where cares comes
abound? Wherein our Saviour's birth is celebrated,
Or, while the wings aspire, are heart and eye The bird of dawning singeth all night long:
Both with thy nest upon the dewy ground? And then, they say, no spirit can walk
Thy nest, which thou canst drop into at will, abroad;
Those quivering wings composed, that music The nights are wholesome; then no planets
r. WORDSWORTH- To a Skylark. No fairy takes, nor witch hath power to charm,
Leave to the nightingale her shady wood; So hallow'd and so gracious is the time. A privacy of glorious light is thine: i. Hamlet - Act I. Sc. 1.
Whence thou dost pour upon the world a
flood Then my dial goes not true; I took the lark
Of harmony, with instinct more divine: for a bunting.
Type of the wise who soar, but never roam: j. All's Well That Ends Well-Act II.
True to the kindred points of Heaven and Sc. 5.
S. WORDSWORTH – To a Skylark.
Thou hast a nest, for thy love and thy rest, That in books are found,
And, though little troubled with sloth, Thy skill to poet were, thou scorner of the Drunken lark! thou wouldst be loth ground!
To be such a traveller as I. k. SHELLEY—To a Skylark.
WORDSWORTH–To a Skylark.
BIRDS - NIGHTINGALE.
NIGHTINGALE. Is it for thee the linnet pours his throat ? Hark! ah, the nightingaleLoves of his own, and raptures swell the note.
The tawny-throated! a. POPE---Essay on Man. Ep. III.
Hark from that moonlit cedar what a burst!
Line 33. i What triumph! hark!-what pain!
Listen, Eugeniab. "TENNYSON- In Memoriam. Pt. XXI. How thick the bursts come crowding through
the leaves! Linnets ...
Again-thou hearest?--*. . .. . . * . . . . . sit
Eternal passion! On the dead tree, a dull despondent flock. Eternal pain! C. THOMSON— The Seasons. Autumn. j. MATTHEW ARNOLD-Philomela. Line 1.
As nightingales do upon glow-worms feed, Hail to Thee, far above the rest
So poets live upon the living light. In joy of voice and pinion!
ke PHILIP J. BAILEY--Festus. Sc. Home. Thou, Linnet! in thy green array, Presiding Spirit here to-day,
It is the hour when from the boughs Dost lead the revels of the May;
The nightingale's high note is heard; And this is thy dominion.
It is the hour when lov'rs' vows d. WORDSWORTH, The Green Linnet.
Seem sweet in every whisper'd word.
1. BYRON--Parisina. St. 1. MARTLET.
"Most musical, most melancholy" bird!
A melancholy bird! Oh, idle thought!
In nature there is nothing melancholy. Builds in the weather on the outward wall, m. COLERIDGE-- The Nightingale. Line 13. Even in the force and road of casualty.
'Tis the merry Nightingale 6. Merchant of Venice. Act II. Sc. 9.
That crowds, and hurries, and precipitates This guest of Summer, With fast thick warble his delicious notes, The temple-haunting martlet, does approve, As he were fearful that an April night By his lov'd mansionry, that the heaven's Would be too short for him to utter forth breath
His love-chant, and disburthen his full soul Smells wooingly here; no jutty, frieze,
Of all its music! Buttress, nor coigne of vantage, but this bird
n. COLERIDGE-- The Nightingale. Line 43. Hath made its pendent bed, and procreant
Sweet bird that sing'st away the early hours cradle: Where they most breed and haunt, I have Of winters past or coming void of care, observ'd,
Well pleased with delights which present The air is delicate.
are, . Jacbeth. Act I. Sc. 6.
Fair seasons, budding sprays, sweet smelling
0. DRUMMOND--Sonnet. The Nightingale. MOCKING-BIRD.
Like a wedding-song all-melting Then from the neighboring thicket the mock Sings the nightingale, the dear one. ing-bird, wildest of singers,
p. HEINE-Book of Songs. Donna Clara. Swinging aloft on a willow spray that hung
The nightingale appear'd the first, o'er the water,
And as her melody she sang, Shook from his little throat such floods of
The apple into blossom burst, delirious music,
To life the grass and violets sprang. That the whole air and the woods and the
q. HEINE-Book of Songs. New Spring. waves seemed silent to listen.
No. 9. 4. LONGFELLOW- Evangeline. Pt. II.
The nightingales are singing Living echo, bird of eve,
On leafy perch aloft. Hush thy wailing, cease to grieve;
r. HEINE-Book of Songs. New Spring. Pretty warbler, wake the grove,
No. 5. To notes of joy, to songs of love. h THOMAS MORTON - Pretty Mocking-bird.
The nightingale's sweet music
Fills the air and leafy bowers. Winged mimic of the woods! thou motley fool! s. HEINE-Book of Songs. New Spring. Who shall thy gay buffoonery describe? Thine ever-ready notes of ridicule
Adieu! Adieu! thy plaintive anthem fades Pursue thy fellows still with jest and jibe: Past the near meadows, over the still stream, Wit, sophist, songster, Yorick of thy tribe,
Up the hill-side; and now 'tis buried deep Thou sportive satirist of Nature's school;
In the next valley-glades:
Fled is that music:--do I wake or sleep? ¿ WILDE-Sonnet. To the Mocking-bird. t. Keats-To a Nightingale.
No. 31. 28
Thou wast not born for death, immortal Make haste to mount, thou wistful moon,
Make haste to wake the nightingale:
In ancient days by emperor and clown. Which warbles from the nightingale.
I. CHRISTINA G. ROSSETTI - Bird Where the nightingale doth sing
Raptures. St. 2. Not a senseless, tranced thing,
The sunrise wakes the lark to sing But divine melodious truth.
The moonrise wakes the nightingale. b. KEATS— To the Poets.
Come darkness, moonrise, everything To the red rising moon, and loud and deep
That is so silent, sweet, and pale: The nightingale is singing from the steep.
Come, so ye wake the nightingale. C. LONGFELLOW-Keats.
m. CHRISTINA G. ROSSETTI -- Bird
Raptures. St. 1. O Nightingale, that on yon bloomy spray Warblest at eve, when all the woods are
The nightingale, if she should sing by day, still;
When every goose is cackling, would be Thou with fresh hope the lover's heart
thought dost fill
No better a musician than the wren. While the jolly Hours lead on propitious
How many things by season season'd are May.
To their right praise, and true perfection! d. MILTON—Sonnet. To the Nightingale.
n. Merchant of Venice. Act V. Sc. 1. Sweet bird that shunn'st the noise of folly, Wilt thou be gone? it is not yet near day: Most musical most melancholy!
It was the nightingale, and not the lark, Thee, chantress, ot, the woods among,
That pierc'd the fearful hollow of thine ear; I woo, to hear thy evening-song.
Nightly she sings on yon pomegranate tree: e. MILTON -- 11 Penseroso. Line 61. Believe me, love, it was the nightingale. Thy liquid notes that close the eye of day;
0. Romeo and Juliet. Act. III. Sc. 5. First heard before the shallow cuckoo's One nightingale in an interfluous wood bill,
Satiate the hungry dark with melody. Portend success in love;
p. SHELLEY- The Woodman and the f. MILTON-Sonnet. To the Nightingale.
Nightingale. The nightingale now wanders in the vines:
O Nightingale, Her passion is to seek roses.
Cease from thy enamoured tale. g. LADY MONTAGU.
Q. SHELLEY- Scenes from The bird that sings on highest wing,
“ Magico Prodigioso.” Sc. 3. Builds on the ground her lowly nest; Lend me your song, ye nightingales ! 0, And she that doth most sweetly sing,
pour Sings in the shade when all things rest: The mazy-running soul of melody In lark and nightingale we see
Into my varied verse ! What honor hath humility.
7. THOMSON--The Seasons. Spring. h. MONTGOMERY-Humility.
Line 573 I said to the Nightingale;
O honey-throated warbler of the grove! “Hail, all hail !
That in the glooming woodland art so proud Pierce with thy trill the dark,
Of answering thy sweet mates in soft or loud, Like a glittering music-spark,
Thou dost not own a note we do not love.
CHARLES (TENNYSON) TURNER--When the earth grows pale and dumb." i. D. M. MULOCK--A Rhyme About
Sonnets and Fugitive Pieces,
To the Nightingale. Yon nightingale, whose strain so sweetly
The rose looks out in the valley, flows,
And thither will I go, Mourning her ravish'd young or much-loved
To the rosy vale, where the nightingale mate,
Sings his song of woe.
On the meadow, j. PETRARCH — To Laura in Death.
Where our bed arranged was,
--There now you may find e'en Hark! that's the nightingale,
In the shadow Telling the self-same tale
Broken flowers and crushed grass. Her song told when this ancient earth was --Near the woods, down in the vale, young:
U. WALTER VON DER VOGELWEIDE k. CHRISTINA G. ROSSETTI -- Twilight
Trans. in The Minnesinger of GerCalm. St. 7.!
many. Under the Linden.
In the hollow tree, in the old gray tower,
The spectral Owl doth dwell; Dall, hated, despised in the sunshine hour,
But at dusk he's abroa-l and well! Not a bird of the forest e'er mates with him
All mock him outright, by day; But at night, when the woods grow still and
dim, The boldest will shrink away! Oh, when the night falls, and roosts the fowl, Then, then, is the reign of the Horned Owl! c. BARRY CORNWALL--The Owl.
Those golden birds that, in the spice time
drop About the gardens, drunk with that sweet
food Whose scent hath lur'd them o'er the sum
mer flood; And those that under Araby's soft sun Build their high nests of budding cinnamon. m. MOORE-Lalla Rookh. The Veiled
Prophet of Korussan.
The startled bats flew out-bird after birdThe screech-owl overhead began to flutter, And seem'd to mock the cry that she had
heard Some dying victim utter. d. Hood--The Haunted House. Pt. II.
PARTRIDGE. Ah, nut-brown partridges! Ah, brilliant
pheasants! And ah, ye poachers!--'Tis no sport for peas
ants. n. BYRON--Don Juan Canto XIII.
Who finds the partridge in the puttock's nest, But may imagine how the bird was dead, Although the kite soar with unblooded beak?
0. Henry VI. Pt. II. Act III. Sc. 2.
The screech-owl, with ill-boding cry,
It was the owl that shriek’d, the fatal bellman, Which gives the stern'st good night.
y. Macbeth. Act II. Sc. 2.
PEACOCK. For everything seem'd resting on his nod, As they could read in all eyes. Now to them, Who were accustom'd, as a sort of god, To see the sultan, rich in many a gem, Like an imperial peacock stalk abroad (That royal bird, whose tail's a diadem,) With all the pomp of power, it was a doubt How power could condescend to do without. p. BYRON--Don Juan. Canto VII.
St. 74. To frtime the little animal, provide All the gay hues that wait on female pride: Let Nature guide thee; sometimes golden
wire The shining bellies of the fly require; The peacock's plumes thy tackle must not
fail, Nor the dear purchase of the sable's tale. q. Gay-- Rural Sports. Canto I.
To Paradise, the Arabs say, Satan could never find the way Until the peacock led him in.
r. LELAND-- The Peacock.