Sing away, ay, sing away, Merry little bird Always gayest of the gay, Though a woodland roundelay You ne'er sung nor heard; Though your life from youth to age Passes in a narrow cage.
'Twas on a lofty vase's side, Where China's gayest art had dyed The azure flowers, that blow; Demurest of the tabby kind, The pensive Selima reclined, Gazed on the lake below.thomas gray
The bird of Jove, stoop'd from his aery tour, Two birds of gayest plume before him drove.john milton
From a grave thinking mouser, she was grown The gayest flirt that coach'd it round the town.william pitt
And care, whom not the gayest can outbrave, Pursues its feeble victim to the grave.henry kirke white