"Birdling" Quotes from Famous Books
 ... whir-r!—a flash and away! A midget bejeweled mid flowers at play! A snip of a birdling, the blossom-bells' king, A waif of the sun-beams on quivering wing! O prince of the fairies, O pygmy of fire, Will nothing those brave little wings of yours tire? You follow the flowers from southern lands sunny, You pry amid petals ...
— The California Birthday Book • Various
... birdling was taken out of the shoe, they found that he did not try to fly, only to hop about the room; and as they looked closer, they could see that one of his wings was hurt a little. But the mother bound it up carefully, so that it ...
— Christmas Stories And Legends • Various
... a broken cart to-day, To-morrow make a kite to reach the sky, There is no woman in God's world could say She was more blissfully content than I. But ah! the dainty pillow next my own Is never rumpled by a shining head; My singing birdling from its nest has flown, The little boy I used ...
— The Home Book of Verse, Vol. 1 (of 4) • Various
... am so far away, Thou art so near; Plead with her, birdling gay, Plead with my dear. Rich be thy recompense, Fine be thy fee, If through ...
— The Complete Poems of Paul Laurence Dunbar • Paul Laurence Dunbar
... and life dispelled the gloom That cheated Death had brought us from the tomb. Aunt Ruth was saved, and slowly getting better— Was dressed each day, and walked about the room. Then came one morning in the Eastern mail, A little white-winged birdling of a letter. I broke the seal and read, "Maurine, my own! I hear Aunt Ruth is better, and am glad. I felt so sorry for you; and so sad To think I left you when I did—alone To bear your pain and worry, and those nights Of weary, anxious watching. Vivian ...
— Maurine and Other Poems • Ella Wheeler Wilcox
... Dennet. "Ah! 'tis pity, the beauteous green gold-bedropped wing—that no armour of thine can equal, Stephen, not even that for the little King of Scots. But shouldst not be so silly a bird, Goldie, even though thou hast thine excuse. There! Peck not, ill birdling. ...
— The Armourer's Prentices • Charlotte Mary Yonge |
