The woods and banks of England now, Late coppered with dead leaves and old, Have made the early violets grow, And bulge with knots of primrose gold. Hear how the blackbird flutes away, Whose music scorns to sleep at night: Hear how the cuckoo shouts all day For echoes -- to the world's delight: Hallo, you imp of wonder, you -- Where are you now, cuckoo? Cuckoo! | Discover our Poem Explanations and Poet Analyses!Other Poems of Interest...LINCOLN by JOHN GOULD FLETCHER DAY AND NIGHT by THOMAS BAILEY ALDRICH SONNETS OF MANHOOD: 44. ISEULT by GEORGE BARLOW (1847-1913) CLIO, NINE ECLOGUES IN HONOUR OF NINE VIRTUES: 5. OF TEMPERANCE by WILLIAM BASSE ONE THAT'S ON THE SEA by JOHN GARDINER CALKINS BRAINARD DAY THAT I HAVE LOVED by RUPERT BROOKE |