THE CUCKOO.
WAITED and longed-for voice ! which stirs the heart 'With dreams of sunny days and summer joys, First heard when vernal woods are waving green, And blue-belle' mimic skies beneath the shade Are starred with primrose. Sound more welcome far 'Than all the thin-piped warblings of the grove, 'The full-voiced cuckoo's sweet monotony, Note under note, repeated o'er and o'er 'With child-like glee as at a trick new found.
Cuckoo ! Cuckoo ! as blithe in these grey days As in those joyous springs long since flown by, 'When all the world seemed big with nameless good, And hearts beat quick for deeds of high empties And unknown wonders coming with the years.
'Tie April in our eyes when thou art heard-
-Half smiles, half tears,—half rapture, half despair !
The years are gone, the wonders still to seek, And little won of all we hoped to win.
Good unattained and poor results of time Courting our vain pursuit have mocked it still, As thou hest mocked, retreating field by field ; Mike rainbow-ends which touch the common earth With gleams of heaven, but never meet our grasp.
So seldom true has thy sweet promise proved ; It flies afar, ere Autumn's chills fall drear, 'To wake its charm where youth and sunshine dwell, Impatient as thyself of adverse skies.
'Fain would we dream that thou wilt roam no more, Mut make thy stay perennial near our homes, 'Thy spring-tide cadence constant to our woods,
-Nor spread thy vagrant wing for brighter shores.
Chant on, dear bird, thy well-remembered lay, And cheat our willing hearts now once again, With hopes of fairer flowers and sweeter fruits Than ever yet were ours in summers past.
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