O the cuckoo she's a pretty bird She singeth as she flies, She bringeth good tidings, She telleth no lies. She sucketh white flowers For to keep her voice clear, And the more she singeth cuckoo The summer draweth near. | Discover our Poem Explanations and Poet Analyses!Other Poems of Interest...THE OLD BUFFALO TRAIL by ISABEL ANDERSON THREE THINGS by CHRISTOPHER BANNISTER TO A REDBREAST, THAT FLEW INTO A HOUSE ... by ELIZABETH BENTLEY EX ORE INFANTIS by THOMAS EDWARD BROWN MEN WERE DECEIVERS EVER by CALLIMACHUS THE CHIEF WITNESS by GEORGE HERBERT CLARKE THE JOYS OF MARRIAGE by CHARLES COTTON A RURAL RETREAT; ENTER OF SALISBURY WITH A BOX by GEORGE DARLEY |