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460 THE GOLDEN TREASURY OF |
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" The blackbird and throstle, I love their song, They cheer us through summer and autumn long; " (Cuckoo ! cuckoo !) " And then they ne'er roam, But they mate and they live all the year at home." (Cuckoo ! cuckoo !) " 'Tis still the same note That comes from that foreign bird's weary throat."
The old man he sleeps in the drowsy air, While soft from his side steals his daughter fair, (Cuckoo ! cuckoo !) There's a bird in the grove That sings a sweet song all young maidens love. (Cuckoo ! cuckoo !) Says the bird from the grove, "I'm weary cuckooing this hour, my love."
The old man he dreams that the cuckoo sings Close up to his ear very wondrous things: (Cuckoo ! cuckoo !) "I love you, dear Mave, And won her young heart just without your leave." (Cuckoo ! cuckoo !) " She is willing to roam From her own beloved nest to my distant home."
Half in fear, half in anger, her sire awakes, As her lips on his brow a soft farewell takes. (Cuckoo! cuckoo !) The old man is alone, For vision, and cuckoo, and child are gone: (Cuckoo ! cuckoo !) A sweet voice whispers near, " We'll be back with the cuckoo in spring next year." |
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