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The martlet Builds in the weather on the outward wall, Even in the force and road of casualty. e. Merchant of Venice. Act II. Sc. 9.
This guest of Summer, The temple-haunting martlet, does approve, By his lov'd mansionry, that the heaven's
breath Smells wooingly here; no jutty, frieze, Buttress, nor coigne of vantage, but this bird Hath made its pendent bed, and procreant
cradle: Where they most breed and liaunt, I have
observ'd, The air is delicate.
Macbeth. Act I. Sc. 6.
NIGHTINGALE. | Hark! ah, the nightingale
the leaves! Again-thou hearest?-Eternal passion! Eternal pain! j. MATTHEW ARNOLD Philomela. Line 1.
As nightingales do upon glow-worms feed, So poets live upon the living light.
k. PHILIP J. BAILEY--Festus. Sc. Home. It is the hour when from the boughs
The nightingale's high note is heard;
Seem sweet in every whisper'd word.
“ Most musical, most melancholy” bird!
'Tis the merry Nightingale That crowds, and hurries, and precipitates With fast thick warble his delicious notes, As he were fearful that an April night Would be too short for him to utter forth His love-chant, and disburthen his full soul Of all its music!
COLERIDGE- The Nightingale. Line 43. Sweet bird that sing'st away the early hours
Of winters past or coming void of care,
are, Fair seasons, budding sprays, sweet smelling
DRUMMOND—Sonnet. The Nightingale. Like a wedding-song all-melting Sings the nightingale, the dear one.
P. HEINE-Book of Songs. Donna Clara. The nightingale appear'd the first,
And as her melody she sang,
To life the grass and violets sprang:
No. 5. The nightingale's sweet music Fills the air and leafy bowers. HEINE-Book of Songs. New Spring.
No. 31. Adieu! Adieu! thy plaintive anthem fades Past the near meadows, over the still stream, Up the hill-side; and now 'tis buried deep
In the next valley-glades:
Fled is that music:--do I wake or sleep?
Then from the neighboring thicket the mock
ing-bird, wildest of singers, Swinging aloft on a willow spray that hung
o'er the water, Shook from his little throat such floods of
delirious music, That the whole air and the woods and the
waves seemed silent to listen.
h. THOMAS MORTON — Pretty Mocking-bird.
Winged mimic of the woods! thou motley fool!
i WILDE-Sonnet. To the Mocking-bird.
Thou wast not born for death, immortal
Bird! No hungry generations tread thee down; The voice I hear this passing night was heard In ancient days by emperor and clown.
KEATS— To a Nightingale. Where the nightingale doth sing Not a senseless, tranced thing, But divine melodious truth.
b. KEATS --To the Poets. To the red rising moon, and loud and deep The nightingale is singing from the steep.
Warblest at eve, when all the woods are
still; Thou with fresh hope the lover's heart
dost fill While the jolly Hours lead on propitious
May. d. MILTON—Sonnet. To the Nightingale. Sweet bird that shunn'st the noise of folly, Most musical most melancholy! Thee, chantress, oft, the woods among, I woo, to hear thy evening-song.
MILTON-- 11 Penseroso. Line 61. Thy liquid notes that close the eye of day;
First heard before the shallow cuckoo's
bill, Portend success in love; f. MILTON-Sonnet. To the Nightingale. The nightingale now wanders in the vines: Her passion is to seek roses. g.
Builds on the ground her lowly nest;
Sings in the shade when all things rest: In lark and nightingale we see What honor hath humility.
h. MONTGOMERY – Humility. I said to the Nightingale;
“Hail, all hail ! Pierce with thy trill the dark, Like a glittering music-spark,
When the earth grows pale and dumb." i. D. M. MULOCK--A Rhyme About
Birds. Yon nightingale, whose strain so sweetly
flows, Mourning her ravish'd young or much-loved
mate, A soothing charm o'er all the valleys throws And skies, with notes well tuned to her sad
state. j. PETRARCH -- To Laura in Death.
Sonnet XLVII. Hark! that's the nightingale,
Telling the self-same tale Her song told when this ancient earth was
young: So echoes answered when her song was sung
In the first wooded vale. k. CHRISTINA G. RossETTI -- Twilight
Calm. St. 7.
Make haste to mount, thou wistful moon,
Raptures. St. 2.
Raptures. St. 1. The nightingale, if she should sing by day, When every goose is cackling, would be
Merchant of Venice. Act V. Sc. 1.
Romeo and Juliet. Act. III. Sc. 5.
Magico Prodigioso." Sc. 3. Lend me your song, ye nightingales ! O,
To the Nightingale. The rose looks out in the valley, And thither will I go, To the rosy vale, where the nightingale Sings his song of woe. t. GIL VICENTE-- The Nightingale. --Under the linden,
On the meadow,
In the shadow
WALTER VON DER VOGELWEIDE-
many. Under the Linilen.
OWL. The large white owl that with eye is blind, That hath sate for years in the old tree
hollow, Is carried away in a gust of wind!
E. B. BROWNING--Isobel's Child. St. 19.
When cats run home and light is come,
And dew is cold upon the ground,
And the whirring sail goes round,
Alone and warming his five wits,
The white owl in the belfry sits. k. TENNYSON — Song. The Owl. The lady Cynthia, mistress of the shade, Goes, with the fashionable owls, to bed. 1. YOUNG--Love of Fame. Satire V.
The Roman senate, when within
BIRD OF PARADISE.
In the hollow tree, in the old gray tower,
The spectral Owl doth dwell;
But at dusk he's abroad and well!
All mock him outright, by day;
dim, The boldest will shrink away! Oh, when the night falls, and roosts the fowl, Then, then, is the reign of the Horned Owl!
BARRY CORNWALL--The Owl.
Nimbly they seized and secreted their
prey, Alive and wriggling in the elastic net, Which nature hung beneath their grasping
beaks; Till, swol’n with captures, the unwieldy bur
den Clogg'd their slow flight, as heavily to land, These mighty hunters of the deep return'd. There on the cragged cliffs they perch'd at
ease, Gorging their hapless victims one by one; Then full and weary, side by side, they slept, Till evening roused them to the chase again. b. MONTGOMERY-- The Pelican Island.
Canto IV. Line 141.
The nursery of brooding Pelicans,
Canto VI. Line 74.
The raven once in snowy plumes was drest,
Metamorphoses. Story of Coronis. The raven was screeching, the leaves fast
fell, The sun gazed cheerlessly down on the
sight. k. HEINE-Book of Songs. Lyrical
Interludes. No. 26. And the Raven, never fitting,
Still is sitting, still is sitting
Just above my chamber door;
Throws the shadow on the floor
Shall be lifted-never more. 1. PoE-The Raven. St. 18.
See, from the brake the whirring pheasant
springs, And mounts exulting on triumphant wings: Short is his joy; he feels the fiery wound, Flutters in blood, and panting beats the
ground. d. POPE--Windsor Forest. Line 113.
Wood-pigeons cooed there, stock-doves nes
tled there ; My trees were full of songs and flowers and
fruit, Their branches spread a city to the air. CHRISTINA G. ROSSETTI -- From House
to Home. St. 7.
Did ever raven sing so like a lark,
Titus Andronicus. Act III. Sc. 1.
0, it comes o'er my memory, As doth the raven o'er the infectious house, Boding to all.
Othello. Act IV. Sc. 1.
I have found out a gift for my fair; I have found where the wood-pigeons breed. of SHENSTONE--A Pastoral. Part II.
Hope. On the cross-beam under the Old South bell The nest of a pigeon is builded well. In summer and winter that bird is there, Ont and in with the morning air. 9.
WILLIS — The Belfry Pigeon.
'Tis a bird I love, with its brooding note,
h. WILLIS — The Belfry Pigeon.
The Robin-red-breast till of late had rest, And children sacred held a Martin's nest. g. POPE-Second Book of Horace.
Satire II. Line 37.
The redbreast oft, at evening hours,
Shall kindly lend his little aid,
Cymbeline. There scatter'd oft, the earliest of the year, By hands unseen, are showers of violets found; The Redbreast loves to build and warble
there, And light footsteps lightly print the ground. b. GRAY— Elegy. Last St. (Early
Edition.) Bearing His cross, while Christ passed forth
forlorn, His God-like forehead by the mock crown
torn, A little bird took from that crown one thorn. To soothe the dear Redeemer's throbbing
head, That bird did what she could; His blood 'tis
said, Down dropping, dyed her tender bosom red. Since then no wanton boy disturbs her nest; Weasel nor wild cat will her young molest; All sacred deem the bird of ruddy breast. HOSKYNS-ABRAHALL-The Redbreast. A Briton Legend. In English
Lyrics. The sobered robin, hunger-silent now, Seeks cedar-berries blue, his autumn cheer.
d. LOWELL- An Indian Summer Reverie.
They'll come again to the apple tree
Robin and all the rest -
In the snow of the blossoms dressed,
The building of the nest.
of the Nest.
man His annual visit. i. THOMSON—The Seasons. Winter.
Line 246. Call for the robin-red-breast and the wren, Since o'er shady groves they hover, And with leaves and flowers do cover The friendless bodies of unburied men. j. JOHN WEBSTER-- The White Devil; or,
Vittoria Corombona. A Dirge. Each morning, when my waking eyes first
see, Through the wreathed lattice, golden day
Our little English robin; The bird that comes about our doors When Autumn winds are sobbing? 1. WORDSWORTH - The Redbreast Chasing
the Butterfly. Now when the primrose makes a splendid
show, And lilies face the March-winds in full blow, And humbler growths as moved with one
desire Put on, to welcome spring, their best attire, Poor Robin is yet flowerless; but how gay With his red stalks upon this sunny day!
And at my casement sing,
Poor robin, driven in by rain-storms wild
e. D. M. MULOCK-Summer Gone. St. 2. On fair Brittannia's isle, bright bird,
A legend strange is told of thee,'Tis said thy blithesome song was hushed
While Christ toiled up Mount Calvary, Bowed 'neath the sins of all mankind;
And humbled to the very dust By the vile cross, while viler man
Mocked with a crown of thorns the Just. Pierced by our sorrows, and weighed down
By our transgressions,-faint, and weak, Crushed by an angry Judge's frown,
And agonies no word can speak,'Twas then, dear bird, the legend says
That thou, from out His crown, didst tear The thorns, to lighten the distress,
And ease the pain that he must bear, While pendant from thy tiny beak
The gory points thy bosom pressed, And crimsoned with thy Saviour's blood The sober brownness of thy breast! Since which proud hour for thee and thine,
As an especial sign of grace
Red signs of favor o'er thy race!