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Birds-Cuckoo: Quotations from Cyclopedia of Practical Quotations

Even the blackest of them all, the crow, Renders good service as your man-at-arms, Crushing the beetle in his coat of mail, And crying havoc on the slug and snail.— LONGFELLOW — Tales of a Wayside Inn.

The Poet's Tale. Birds of Killingworth. St. 19. Light thickens; and the crow Makes wing to the rooky wood.— Shakespeare — Macbeth. Act III. Sc. 2. L. 49.

The crow doth sing as sweetly as the lark When neither is attended.— Shakespeare — Merchant of Venice. Act V. Sc. 1. L. 102.

As the many-winter'd crow that leads the clanging rookery home.— TENNYSON — Locksley Hall. St. 34.

Cuckoo. The Attic warbler pours her throat Responsive to the cuckoo's note.— GRAY — Ode on the Spring.

And now I hear its voice again, And still its message is of peace, It sings of love that will not cease, For me it never sings in vain.— FRED'K LOCKER — The Cuckoo.

Oh, could I fly, I'd fly with thee! We'd make, with joyful wing, Our annual visit o'er the globe, Companions of the spring.— JOHN LOGAN — To the Cuckoo.

Sweet bird! thy bower is ever green, Thy sky is ever clear; Thou hast no sorrow in thy song, No winter in thy year!— JOHN LOGAN — To the Cuckoo.

And being fed by us you used us so As that ungentle gull, the cuckoo's bird, Useth the sparrow.— Shakespeare — S. Henry IV. Pt. I. Act V. Sc. 1. L. 59.

The cuckoo builds not for himself.— Shakespeare — Antony and Cleopatra. Act II. Sc. 6. L. 28.

The cuckoo then on every tree, Mocks married men; for thus sings he, Cuckoo! Cuckoo! Cuckoo! O word of fear, Unpleasing to a married ear.— Shakespeare — Love's Labour's Lost. Act V. Sc. 2. L. 908.

The merry cuckow, messenger of Spring, His trumpet shrill hath thrice already sounded.— SPENSER — Sonnet 19.

While I deduce, From the first note the hollow cuckoo sings, The symphony of spring.— THOMSON — The Seasons. Spring. L. 576.

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? C.— WORDSWORTH — To the Cuckoo

Cygnet. Their cygnets following through the foamy wake, Picking the leaves of plants, pursuing insects.— MONTGOMERY — Pelican Island. Canto IV. L. 236.

A golden chariot in the midst is set, And silver signets seem to feel its weight.— PRIOR — Solomon. Bk. II.

Pleasure. L. 643. I am the cygnet to this pale faint swan, Who chants a doleful hymn to his own death; And, from the organ-pipe of frailty, sings His soul and body to their lasting rest.— Shakespeare — King John. Act V. Sc. 7. L. 21.

So doth the swan her downy cygnets save, Keeping them prisoner underneath her wings.— Shakespeare — Henry VI. Pt. I. Act V. Sc. 3. L. 56.

Dove. 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 come retreat, To hear the murmuring dove, With those whom on earth alone we love, And to wind through the greenwood together.— REV. WM. LISLE BOWLES — The

Greenwood. And there my little doves did sit With feathers softly brown And glittering eyes that showed their right To general Nature's deep delight.— E. B. BROWNING — My Doves.