And I made more noise in the world than you!
The sun shone forth on my ebon wing;
I looked and wondered—good night, poor thing!"
"Good night, once more," said the lark's sweet voice.
"I see no cause to repent my choice;
You build your nest in the lofty pine,
But is your slumber more sweet than mine?
You make more noise in the world than I,
But whose is the sweeter minstrelsy?"
Unknown