Dear brother Quote by Walt Whitman

“Solitary the thrush, The hermit withdrawn to himself, avoiding the settlements, Sings by himself a song. Song of the bleeding throat!”

— Walt Whitman

Hush! With sudden gush As from a fountain sings in yonder bush The Hermit Thrush.

— John B. Tabb

Birds sing on a bare bough; O, believer, canst not thou?

— Charles Spurgeon

“It was the song of the birds in spring and the call of the wind through bare branches on a cold winter afternoon. Fate.…

— Leslye Walton

Sweet bird that shunn'st the nose of folly, Most musical, most melancholy! Thee, chauntress, oft, the woods among, I woo, to hear thy even-song.

— John Milton

“...And yet a knowledge is here that tenses the throat as for song: the inheritance of the ones, alive or once alive, who stand…

— Wendell Berry

“Somewhere a bird sang, its chant hanging plaintive and melancholy in the still air...I think it's a sort of lark or something. Our tradition…

— Jane Johnson

“Even the birds sing in the face of death But the rest of the world hears only a scream”

— Anonymous

Thou wast not born for death, immortal Bird! No hungry generations tread thee down; The voice I hear this passing night was heard In…

— John Keats

The song of thrush and blackbird, joy that falls so gently on the ears to celebrate another day of life and living, flying free.

— John McLeod

“It is in the last step that one finds the unfathomable beginning; it is in the aloneness that one discovers himself never alone; it…

— Heather K. O'Hara

The dying swan, when years her temples pierce, In music-strains breathes out her life and verse, And, chanting her own dirge, tides on her…

— Phineas Fletcher