The lark that shuns on lofty boughs to build, Her humble nest, lies silent in the field.

Thrice happy is that humble pair, Beneath the level of all care! Over whose heads those arrows fly, Of sad distrust and jealousy.

Go, lovely rose! Tell her that wastes her time and me That now she knows, When I resemble her to thee, How sweet and fair she seems to be.

Oh man, that's just kind of lofty right now, ... I got here by staying humble and working hard every day and staying afterwards. That's what I'm going to continue to keep doing.

He knew / Himself to sing, and build the lofty rhyme.

Vexed sailors cursed the rain, for which poor shepherds prayed in vain.