| C.N. Douglas, comp. Forty Thousand Quotations: Prose and Poetical. 1917. | | | | Blackbird |
| | | | 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. |
Moir. | 1 |
| | 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. |
Tennyson. | 2 |
| | Golden Bill! Golden Bill! |
| Lo, the peep of day; |
| All the air is cool and still, |
| From the elm-tree on the hill, |
| Chant away: |
| * * * * * |
| Let thy loud and welcome lay |
| Pour alway |
| Few notes but strong. |
Montgomery. | 3 |
| | 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 fondly—while the Blackbird sings. |
Frederick Tennyson. | 4 | | |
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