| C.N. Douglas, comp. Forty Thousand Quotations: Prose and Poetical. 1917. | | | | Lark |
| | | It was the lark, the herald of the morn. Shakespeare. | 1 |
| Merry larks are ploughmen’s clocks. Shakespeare. | 2 |
| The busy lark, the messenger of day. Chaucer. | 3 |
| Rise with the lark, and with the lark to bed. Hurdis. | 4 |
| They longed to see the day, to hear the lark record her hymns, and chant her carols blest. Fairfax. | 5 |
| | And now the herald lark |
| Left his ground-nest, high tow’ring to descry |
| The morn’s approach, and greet her with his song. |
Milton. | 6 |
| | None but the lark so shrill and clear; |
| Now at heaven’s gate she claps her wings, |
| The morn not waking till she sings. |
Lyly. | 7 |
| | Lo! here the gentle lark, weary of rest, |
| From his moist cabinet mounts up on high, |
| And wakes the morning, from whose silver breast |
| The sun ariseth in his majesty. |
Shakespeare. | 8 | | |
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