Where in venerable rows Widely waving oaks enclose The moat of yonder antique hall, Swarm the rooks with clamorous call; And, to the toils of nature true, Wreath their capacious nests anew. (Quote by - Thomas Warton)

Those Rooks, dear, from morning till night, They seem to do nothing but quarrel and fight, And wrangle and jangle, and plunder. (Quote by - Dinah Maria Mulock)

Invite the rook who high amid the boughs, In early spring, his airy city builds, And ceaseless caws amusive. (Quote by - James Thomson)