Feathered Favourites: Twelve Coloured Pictures of British Birds
Each of the dozen birds is depicted in a color-printed lithograph surrounded by a gilt frame, and followed by poems that feature each bird by Wordsworth, Tennyson, Milton, Burns, Grahame, Montgomery, and others. Birds depicted are the House-Sparrow, Wren, Blackcap, Swallow, Woodpecker, Water-Wagtail, Titmouse, King-Fisher, Woodlark, Swan, Eagle and Wild Duck.
What people are saying - Write a review
We haven't found any reviews in the usual places.
Other editions - View all
beneath better bill bird bold bough bower bright brood build clear close clouds coming crown dark deep dost doth drive dwell Eagle ease fair fall feathered fight flower fond gale give glance GRAHAME green grove hast hath head hear heard heart Heaven hills hollow hour HOWITT knows leave light live lonely look mark merry MONTGOMERY morning moss mountain nest never night notes o'er peace pinions reeds rest river rock roof round scream season seen side sing sits song soon soul sound Sparrow Spread spring strain summer Swallow sweet takes tell thee thing thou tree trilling voice wall waters wide wild wind wing wintry wood Woodpecker Wren X X X X X X yellow young
Page 22 - I KNEW, by the smoke that so gracefully curled Above the green elms, that a cottage was near, And I said, " If there's peace to be found in the world, A heart that was humble might hope for it here...
Page 40 - THE plain was grassy, wild and bare, Wide, wild, and open to the air, Which had built up everywhere An under-roof of doleful gray. With an inner voice the river ran, Adown it floated a dying swan, And loudly did lament. It was the middle of the day. Ever the weary wind went on, And took the reed -tops as it went. n. Some blue peaks in the distance rose, And white against the cold-white sky, Shone out their crowning snows.
Page 17 - THE gorse is yellow on the heath, The banks with speedwell flowers are gay, The oaks are budding, and beneath The hawthorn soon will bear the wreath, The silver wreath of May. The welcome guest of settled spring...
Page 45 - Lay'st thou thus thy drooping head ? Thou, that hold'st the blast in scorn, Thou, that wear'st the wings of morn ! Eagle ! wilt thou not arise ? Look upon thine own bright skies ! Lift thy glance ! the fiery sun There his pride of place has won, THE EAGLE.