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 HILL ABOVE THE MINE by MALCOLM COWLEY SONG FOR A VIOLA D'AMORE by AMY LOWELL AGING TOGETHER by CLARENCE MAJOR MIDDLE-AGED; A STUDY IN EMOTION by EZRA POUND SPIRITUAL ISOLATION: A FRAGMENT by ISAAC ROSENBERG |