Happiness of Birds. "The Birds"

" THE Birds . "

Blest are they,
The birds alway,
With perfect clothing,
Fearing nothing,
Cold or sleet or summer heat.
As it chances,
As he fancies,
Each his own vagary follows,
Dwelling in the dells and hollows
When, with eager weary strain,
The shrilly grasshoppers complain,
Parched upon the sultry plain;
Maddened with the raging heat,
We secure a cool retreat,
In the shady nooks and coves,
Recesses of the sacred groves,
Many an herb, and many a berry
Serves to feast, and make us merry.
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Author of original: 
Aristophanes
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