Love came about the Cuckoo's time, Two months ago, or more; In April I was rich in joy, But June has left me poor. Love cried for money all day long, For more than I possessed; The Cuckoo, making echoes fast, Destroyed my quiet rest. Now, in July, in this dead calm, When both are gone away — I sit alone, a peevish man, And miss them every day. | Discover our Poem Explanations and Poet Analyses!Other Poems of Interest...A DROP OF DEW by ANDREW MARVELL A CANADIAN BOAT SONG; WRITTEN ON THE RIVER ST. LAWRENCE by THOMAS MOORE JENNY WI' THE AIRN TEETH by ALEXANDER ANDERSON TO THE HONOURABLE AND VIRTUOUS LADY, THE LADY TASBURGH by WILLIAM BASSE ECCLESIASTES: THE LIGHT IS SWEET by OLD TESTAMENT BIBLE THE WANDERER: 5. IN HOLLAND: THE FUGITIVE by EDWARD ROBERT BULWER-LYTTON |