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Great albatross !—the meanest birds

Spring up and flit away, While thou must toil to gain a flight,

And spread those pinions grey, But when they once are fairly poised,

Far o'er each chirping thing, Thou sailest wide to other lands, E'en sleeping on the wing.


BAT. The sun was set ; the night came on apace, And falling dews bewet around the place, The bat takes airy rounds on leathern wings, And the hoarse owl his woeful dirges sings. b. Gay-Shepherd's Week. Wednesday;

or, The Dumps,

Ere the bat hath flown His cloister'd flight.

Macbeth. Act III. Sc. 2.

How sweet the harmonies of the afternoon!

The Blackbird sings along the sunny breeze His ancient song of leaves, and summer boon; Rich breath of hayfields streams thro'

whispering trees; And birds of morning trim their bustling

wings, And listen tondly-while the Blackbird sings. i. FREDERICK TENNYSON- The Blackbird.

St. 1. BLUEBIRD. “So the Bluebirds have contracted, have

they, for a house? And a nest is under way for little Mr.

Wren? Hush, dear, hush! Be quiet, dear; quiet as These are weighty secrets, and we must

whisper them.” j. SUSAN COOLIDGE- Secrets. In the thickets and the meadows Piped the bluebird, the Owaissa, On the summit of the lodges Sang the robin, the Opechee.

k. LONGFELLOW-- Hiawatha. Pt. XXI.

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BEACH-BIRD. Thou little bird, thou dweller by the sea, Why takest thou its melancholy voice,

And with that boding cry

Along the breakers fly? d. DANA- The Little Beach-Bird.




And from each hill let music thrill
Give my fair love good morrow,
Blackbird and thrush in every bush,
Stare, linnet, and cock-sparrow.

The birds have ceased their songs,
All save the blackbird, that from yon tall

ash, 'Mid Pinkie's greenery, from his mellow

throat, In adoration of the setting sun, Chants forth his evening hymn.

f. MOIR-An Evening Sketch. A slender young Blackbird built in a thorn

tree: A spruce little fellow as ever could be; His bill was so yellow, his feathers so black, So long was his tail, and so glossy his back, That good Mrs. B., who sat hatching her

eggs, And only just left them to stretch her poor

legs, And pick for a minute the worm she preferred, Thought there never was seen such a beautiful

bird. 9. D. M. MULOCK-The Blackbird and

the Rooks. O Blackbird! sing me something well:

While all the neighbors shoot thee round, I keep smooth plats of fruitful ground Where thou may'st warble, eat and dwell. The espaliers and the standards all

Are thine: the range of lawn and park:

The unnetted black-hearts ripen dark, All thine against the garden wall. ኤ h. TENNYSON— The Blackbird.

BOBOLINK. Modest and shy as a nun is she;

One weak chirp is her only note; Braggart and prince of braggarts is he,

Pouring boasts from his little throat.

I. BRYANT-- Robert of Lincoln. Robert of Lincoln is gayly drest,

Wearing a bright black wedding-coat; White are his shoulders and white his crest.

BRYANT-- Robert of Lincoln. Robert of Lincoln's Quaker wife,

Pretty and quiet, with plain brown wings, Passing at home a patient life, Broods in the grass while her husband


BRYANT-Robert of Lincoln.
The broad blue mountains lift their brows

Barely to bathe them in the blaze;
The bobolinks from silence rouse
And flash along melodious ways !

Daybreak. CANARY. Thou should'st be carolling thy Maker's

praise, Poor bird! now fetter'd, and here set to draw, With graceless toil of beak and added claw, The meagre food that scarce thy want allays ! And this--to gratify the gloating gaze Of fools, who yalue Nature not a straw, But know to prize the intraction of her law And hard perversion of her creature's ways ! Thee the wild woods await, in leaves attired, Where notes of liquid utterance should en

gage Thy bill, that now with pain scant forage earns, p. JULIAN FANE-Poeins. Second Edition, with Additional Poeins. To a

Canary Bird.

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Sing away, ay, sing away,

Merry little bird
Always gayest of the gay,
Though a woodland roundelay

You ne'er sung nor heard ;
Though your life from youth to age
Passes in a narrow cage.
D. M. MULOCK-- The Canary in his


List--'twas the Cuckoo. O with what delight Heard I that voice ! and catch it now, though

faint, Far off and faint, and melting into air, Yet not to be mistaken. Hark again! Those louder cries give notice that the Bird, Although invisible as Echo's self, Is wheeling hitherward.

WORDSWORTH The Cuckoo at Laverna. O blithe New-comer! I have heard, I hear thee and rejoice; O Cuckoo! shall I call thee Bird, Or but a wandering Voice ?

WORDSWORTI— To the Cuckoo.




Good-morrow to thy sable beak,
And glossy plumage, dark and sleek;
Thy crimson morn and azure eye--
Cock of the heath, so wildly shy !
b. JOANNA BAILLIE- The Black Cock.

St. 1.

The cock, that is the trumpet to the morn, Doth with his lofty and shrill-sounding

throat Awake the God of day.

Hamlet. Act I. Sc. 1.

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Oh! when 'tis summer weather,
And the yellow bee, with fairy sound,
The waters clear is humming round,
And the cuckoo sings unseen,
And the leaves are waving green--

Oh! then 'tis sweet,

In some retreat, To hear the murmuring dove, With those whom on earth alone we love, And to wind through the greenwood together. 9.

BOWLES-The Greenwood. The dove returning bore the mark Of earth restored to the long labouring ark; The relics of mankind, secure of rest, Oped every window to receive the guest, And the fair bearer of the message bless'd. r. DRYDEN- To Her Grace of Ormond.

Line 70.

CUCKOO. "Cuckoo-Cuckoo!" no other note, She sings from day to day; But I, though a poor cottage-girl, Can work, and read, and pray. i.

BOWLES-Spring. Cuckoo. St. 2. The Attic warbler pours her throat. Responsive to the cuckoo's note. ). GRAY - Ode on the Spring.

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Thou hast no sorrow in thy song,
No winter in thy year.

k. JOHN LOGAN- To the Cuckoo.

The Cuckoo then on every tree,
Mocks married men, for thus sings he,

Cuckoo! Cuckoo!.0 word of fear,
Unpleasing to married ear.
1. Love's Labour's Lost. Act. V. Sc. 2.

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The dove and very blessed spirit of peace.

Henry IV. Pt. II. Act IV. Sc. 1. I heard a stock-dove sing or say His homely tale this very day; His voice was buried among trees, Yet to be come-at by the breeze: He did not cease; but cooed--and cooed; And somewhat pensively he wooed: He sang of love, with quiet blending, Slow to begin, and never ending; Of serious faith, and inward glee; That was the song, the song for me! d. WORDSWORTH.-0 Nightingale! Thou

Surely Art.


But flies an eagle flight, bóld, and forth on, Leaving no tract behind. 1.

Timon of Athens. Act I. Sc. 1. I saw Jove's bird, the Roman eagle, wing'd From the spungy south to this part of the

west, There vanish'd in the sunbeams.

Cymbeline. Act IV. Sc. 2. The eagle suffers little birds to sing, And is not careful what they mean thereby.

Titus Andronicus. Act IV. Sc. 4. Around, around, in ceaseless circles wheeling With clang of wings and scream, the Eagle

sailed Incessantly. SHELLEY-- Revolt of Islam. Canto I.

St. 10. He clasps the crag with hooked hands; Close to the sun in lonely lands, Ring'd with the azure world, he stands. The wrinkled sea beneath him crawls: He watches from his mountain walls, And like a thunderbolt he falls. p.

TENNYSON-- The Eagle. Shall eagles not be eagles ? wrens be wrens ? If all the world were falcons, what of that? The wonder of the eagle were the less, But he not less the eagle. 9.

TENNYSON— The Golden Year. Line 37. The eagle, with wings strong and free, Builds her home with the flags in the tower

ing crags That o'erhang the white foam of the sea.

John H. YATES--A Song of Home.

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Tho' he inherit Nor the pride, nor ample pinion,

That the Theban eagle bear, Sailing with supreme dominion Thro' the azure deep of air.

GRAY-- The Progress of Poesy.

The bird of Jove, stoop'd from his airy tour,
Two birds of gayest plume before him drove.
MILTON--Paradise Lost. Bk. XI.

Line 184.

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Bird of the broad and sweeping wing,

Thy home is high in heaven, Where wide the storm their banners fling,

And the tempest clouds are driven.

h. PERCIVAL-- The Eugle. So in the Libyan fable it is told That once an eagle, stricken with a dart, Said when he saw the fashion of the shaft, “With our own feathers, not by other's hands Are we now smitten."

i. PLUMPTRE'S Aeschylus. Fragm. 123. Little eagles wave their wings in goldj. POPE- Moral Essays. Ep. V.

Line 30. All furnish'd, all in arms; All plum'd, like estridges that with the wind Bated,-like eagles having lately bath'd; Glittering in golden coats, like images.

k. Henry IV, Pt. I. Act IV. Sc. 1.

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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.

Sc. 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.

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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. Taming of the Shrero. Act IV. Sc. 1.

The wildfowl nestled in the brake
And sedges, brooding in their liquid

bed. 6. BYRON--Don Juan. Canto XIII.

St. 57.
A goldfinch there I saw, with gaudy pride
Of painted plumes, that hopped from side to

DRYDEN-- The Flower and the Leaf.

Line 106.
As wild geese that the creeping fowler eye,
Or russet-pated choughs, many in sort,
Rising and cawing at

the gun's report, Sever themselves, and madly sweep the sky. d. Midsummer Night's Dream. Act III.

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.

Thou tells o' never-ending care,
O'speechless grief and dark despair:
For pity's sake, sweet bird, nae mair!

Or my poor heart is broken!
k. BURNS-Address to the Woodlark.

Sts. 1 and 4.

The lark, that holds observance to the sun,
Quaver'd his clear notes in the quiet air,
And on the river's murmuring base did run,
Whilst the pleas'd Heavens her fairest livery


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HAWK. The winds are pillow'd on the waveless deep, And from the curtain'd sky the midnight Looks sombred o'er the forest depths, that

sleep Instirring, 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. 9. 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 Shrev. Act IV. Sc. 3.

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! i. ALEXANDER WILSON-The Fisherman's


1. DRAYTON— Legend of the Duke of

Buckingham. Line 1.
Bird of the wilderness
Blithesome and cumberless
Sweet be thy matin o'er moorland and lea!
Emblem of happiness,
Blest is thy dwelling-place.

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-
O to abide in the desert with thee!

Hogg- The Skylark.
Rise with the lark, and with the lark to bed.

HURDIS— The Village Curate.
None but the lark so shrill and clear;
Now at heaven's gate she claps her wings,
The morn not waking till she sings.

P. LYLY— The Songs of Birds.
Hear the lark begin his flight,
And singing startle the dull Night,
From his watch-tower in the skies,
Till the dappled dawn doth rise.

MILTON - L'Allegro. Line 41.
The bird that sings on highest wing,

Builds on the ground her lowly nest; And she that doth most sweetly sing,

Sings in the shade when all things rest: In lark and nightingale we see What honor hath humility.

I said to the sky poised Lark:

“Hark-hark !
Thy note is more loud and free
Because there lies safe for thee
A little nest on the ground.”

D. M. MULOCK-A Rhyme About Birds.

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Day had awakened all things that be, The larks and the thrush and the swallow

free, And the milkmaid's song, and the mower's

scythe, And the matin-bell, and the mountain bee.

1. SHELLEY— The Boat on the Serchio.

No more the mounting larks, while Daphne

sings, Shall, list’ning in midair suspend their


POPE- Winter. Line 53. O earliest singer! O care-charming bird! Married to morning, by a sweeter hymn Than priest e'er chanted from his cloister dim At midnight, -or veiled virgin's holier word At sunrise or the paler evening heard.

b. PROCTER—- The Flood of Thessaly. O happy skylark springing

Up to the broad, blue sky, Too fearless in thy winging, Too gladsome in thy singing,

Thou also soon shalt lie Where no sweet notes are ringing. CHRISTINA G. ROSSETTI -Gone Forever.

St 2. The sunrise wakes the lark to sing. d. CHRISTINA G. ROSSETTI Bird Raptures.

Line 1.

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Hark! hark! the lark at heaven's gate sings,

And Phoebus 'gins arise,
His steeds to water at those springs

On chalic'd flowers that lies.

e. Cymbeline--Act II. Sc. 3. Song. It is the lark that sings so out of tune, Straining harsh discords and unpleasing


Romeo amd Juliet. Act III. Sc. 5.

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It was the lark, the herald of the morn. 9.

Romeo and Juliet--Act III. Sc. 5. Lo! here the gentle lark, weary of rest, From his moist cabinet mounts up on high, And wakes the morning, from whose silver

breast The sun ariseth in his majesty.

h. Venus and Adonis-Line 853.

Come, let us seek the dewy lawns, And watch the early lark arise. 9.

WHITE— Pastoral Song.

Some say, that ever 'gainst that season


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Wherein our Saviour's birth is celebrated, The bird of dawning singeth all night long: And then, they say, no spirit can walk

abroad; The nights are wholesome; then no planets

strike, No fairy takes, nor witch hath power to

charm, So hallow'd and so gracious is the time.

i. Hamlet ---Act I. Sc. 1. Then my dial goes not true; I took the lark

for a bunting. j. Al's Well That Ends Well-Act II.

Sc. 5. Better than all measures Of delightful sound, Better than all treasures

That in books are found, Thy skill to poet were, thou scorner of the

ground! k. SHELLEYTo a Skylark.

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