No bird soars too high if he soars with his own wings.
The bird a nest, the spider a web, man friendship.
When thou seest an eagle, thou seest a portion of genius; lift up thy head!
Then the Parson might preach, & drink, & sing, And we'd be as happy as birds in the spring; And modest dame Lurch, who is always at Church, Would not have bandy children, nor fasting, nor birch.
The crow wished everything was black, the Owl, that everything was white.
How can a bird that is born for joy Sit in a cage and sing?
How can the bird that is born for joy Sit in a cage and sing? How can a child, when fears annoy, But droop his tender wing, And forget his youthful spring?
How do you know but ev’ry Bird that cuts the airy way, Is an immense world of delight, clos’d by your senses five?
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