Where deep and misty shadows float In forest's depths is heard thy note. Like a lost spirit, earthbound still, Art thou, mysterious whip-poor-will. (Quote by - Marie Le Baron)

The moon of the whip-poor-will from the hillside; the boding cry of the tree-toad, that harbinger of storm; the dreary hooting of the screechowl. (Quote by - Washington Irving)

But the whip-poor-will wails on the moor, And day has deserted the west: The moon glimmers down thro' the vines at my door And the robin has flown to her nest. (Quote by - James Freeman Clarke)