|Hoyt & Roberts, comps. Hoyts New Cyclopedia of Practical Quotations. 1922.|
|Across the noisy street|
I hear him careless throw
One warning utterance sweet;
Then faint at first, and low,
The full notes closer grow;
Hark, what a torrent gush!
They pour, they overflow
Sing on, sing on, O thrush!
Austin DobsonBallad of the Thrush.
|O thrush, your song is passing sweet,|
But never a song that you have sung
Is half so sweet as thrushes sang
When my dear love and I were young.
Wm. MorrisOther Days.
|In the gloamin o the wood|
The throssil whusslit sweet.
Wm. MotherwellJeanie Morrison.
|I said to the brown, brown thrush:|
Through the woods full strains I hear
Thy monotone deep and clear,
Like a sound amid sounds most fine.
D. M. MulockA Rhyme About Birds.
|The throstle with his note so true,|
The wren with little quill.
Midsummer Nights Dream. Act III. Sc. 1. L. 130.
|Sing, sweet thrushes, forth and sing!|
Meet the moon upon the lea;
Are the emeralds of the spring
On the anglers trysting-tree?
Tell, sweet thrushes, tell to me,
Are there buds on our willow-tree?
Buds and birds on our trysting-tree?
Thomas Tod StoddartThe Anglers Trysting-Tree.
With sudden gush
As from a fountain sings in yonder bush
The Hermit Thrush.
John Bannister TabbOverflow.
|When rosy plumelets tuft the larch,|
And rarely pipes the mounted thrush.
TennysonIn Memoriam. Pt. XCI.
|At the corner of Wood Street, when daylight appears,|
Hangs a thrush that sings loud, it has sung for three years.
WordsworthReverie of Poor Susan.
|And hark! how blithe the throstle sings!|
He, too, is no mean preacher:
Come forth into the light of things,
Let Nature be your teacher.
WordsworthThe Tables Turned.