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Birds-Canary: Quotations from Cyclopedia of Practical Quotations
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 sings.— BRYANT — Robert of Lincoln.
One day in the bluest of summer weather, Sketching under a whispering oak, I heard five bobolinks laughing together, Over some ornithological joke.— C. P. CRANCH — Bird Language.
When Nature had made all her birds, With no more cares to think on, She gave a rippling laugh and out There flew a Bobolinkon.— C. P. CRANCH — The Bobolinks.
Bobolink! that in the meadow, Or beneath the orchard's shadow, Keepest up a constant rattle Joyous as my children's prattle, Welcome to the north again.— THOS. HILL — The Bobolink.
The crack-brained bobolink courts his crazy mate, Poised on a bulrush tipsy with his weight.— O. W. HOLMES — Spring.
Out of the fragrant heart of bloom, The bobolinks are singing; Out of the fragrant heart of bloom The apple-tree whispers to the room, "Why art thou but a nest of gloom While the bobolinks are singing?"— W. D. HOWELLS — The Bobolinks are
Singing. The broad blue mountains lift their brows Barely to bathe them in the blaze; The bobolinks from silence rouse And flash along melodious ways!— HARRIET PRESCOTT SPOFFORD
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 value Nature not a straw, But know to prize the infraction of her law And hard perversion of her creatures' ways! Thee the wild woods await, in leaves attired, Where notes of liquid utterance should engage , Thy bill, that now with pain scant forage earns.— JULIAN FANE — Poems. Second Edition
with Additional Poems. To a Canary Bird 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 Cage.
Bird of the amber beak, Bird of the golden wing! Thy dower is thy carolling; Thou hast not far to seek Thy bread, nor needest wine To make thy utterance divine; Thou art canopied and clothed And unto Song betrothed.— E. C. STEDMAN — The Songster. St. 2.
Cock. Good-morrow to thy sable beak, And glossy plumage, dark and sleek, Thy crimson moon and azure eye, Cock of the heath, so wildly shy!— JOANNA BAILLIE — The Black Cock. St. 1.
While the cock with lively din Scatters the rear of darkness thin, And to the stack or the barn door Stoutly struts his dames before.— MILTON — L'Allegro.
Hark, hark! I hear The strain of strutting chanticleer Cry, cock-a-diddle-dow.— Shakespeare — Tempest. Act I. Sc. 2. L. 384.
The cock, that is the trumpet to the morn, Doth with his lofty and shrill-sounding throat Awake the god of day.— Shakespeare — Hamlet. Act I. Sc. 1. L. 150.
The early village cock Hath twice done salutation to the morn.— Shakespeare — Richard III. Act V. Sc. 3. L. 209.
The morning cock crew loud, And at the sound it shrunk in haste away, And vanish'd from our sight.— Shakespeare — Hamlet. Act I. Sc. 2. L. 217.
Crow. To shoot at crows is powder flung away. GAY. Ep. IV. Last line. Only last night he felt deadly sick, and, after a great deal of pain, two black crows flew out of his mouth and took wing from the room. Gesta Romanorum-Tale XLV.