THE CUCKOO.
“Pee! pee! pee!” says the merry Pee-Bird;
And as soon as the children hear it,
“The Cuckoo’s a-coming,” they say, “for I heard,
Up in his tree the merry Pee-Bird,
And he’ll come in three days, or near it!”
The days go on, one, two, three;
And the little bird singeth “pee! pee! pee!”
Then on the morrow, ’tis very true,
They hear the note of the old Cuckoo;
Up in the elm-tree, through the day,
Just as in gone years, shouting away;
“Cuckoo,” the Cuckoo doth cry,
And the little boys mock him as they go by.
The wood-pecker laughs to hear the strain,
And says “the old fellow is come back again;
He sitteth again on the very same tree,
And he talks of himself again!—he! he! he!”
The stock-doves together begin to coo
When they hear the voice of the old cuckoo;
“Ho! ho!” say they, “he did not find
Those far-away countries quite to his mind,
So he’s come again to see what he can do
With sucking small birds’ eggs, coo-coo!”
The black-bird, and throstle, and loud missel-cock,
They sing altogether, the Cuckoo to mock;
“What want we with him? let him stay over sea!”
Sings the bold, piping reed-sparrow, “want him? not we!”
“Cuckoo!” the Cuckoo shouts still,
“I care not for you, let you rave as you will!”
“Cuckoo!” the cuckoo doth cry,
And the little boys mock him as they go by.
“Hark! hark!” sings the chiff-chaff, “hark! hark!” says the lark,
And the white-throats and buntings all twitter “hark! hark!”
The wren and the hedge-sparrow hear it anon,
And “hark! hark!” in a moment shouts every one.
“Hark! hark!—that’s the Cuckoo there, shouting amain!
Bless our lives! why that egg-sucker’s come back again!”
“Cuckoo!” the Cuckoo shouts still,
“I shall taste of your eggs, let you rave as you will!”
“Cuckoo!” the Cuckoo doth cry,
And the little boys mock him as they go by.
The water-hens hear it, the rail and the smew,
And they say,—“Why on land there’s a pretty to-do!
Sure the Cuckoo’s come back, what else can be the matter?
The pyes and the jays are all making a clatter!”
“Hark! hark!” says the woodcock, “I hear him myself,
Shouting up in the elm-tree, the comical elf!”
“Hark! hark!” cries the widgeon, “and I hear him too,
Shouting loudly as ever, that self-same Cuckoo!”
“Well, well,” says the wild duck, “what is it to us;
I’ve no spite ’gainst the Cuckoo; why make such a fuss?
Let him shout as he listeth—he comes over sea—
And his French may be French, ’t is no matter to me;
I have no spite against him, my soul’s not so narrow,
I leave all such whims to the tomtit and sparrow!”
“Cuckoo!” the Cuckoo shouts still,
“You may all hold your peace, I shall do as I will!”
“Cuckoo!” the Cuckoo doth cry,
And the little boys mock him as they go by.