"Then from the neighboring thicket the mocking-bird, wildest of singers, Swinging aloft on a willow spray that hung o'…"

"Ah, nut-brown partridges! Ah, brilliant pheasants! And ah, ye poachers!—'Tis no sport for peasants."

"Hail to thee, far above the rest In joy of voice and pinion! Thou, linnet! in thy green array, Presiding spirit here …"

"I'd rather you shot at tin cans in the back yard, but I know you'll go after birds. Shoot all the bluejays you want, …"

"Winged mimic of the woods! thou motley fool! Who shall thy gay buffoonery describe? Thine ever-ready notes of ridicul…"

"Now more than ever seems it rich to die, To cease upon the midnight with no pain, While thou art pouring forth thy so…"

"I do sing because I must, And pipe but as the linnets sing."

"Linnets * * * sit On the dead tree, a dull despondent flock."

"So have I seen, in black and white, A prating thing, a magpie hight, Majestically stalk; A stately worthless animal, …"

"Or have you mark'd a partridge quake, Viewing the towering falcon nigh? She cuddles low behind the brake: Nor would s…"