To the Cuckoo
O blithe newcomer! I have heard
That thou art not in truth a bird;
Yet my heart sings to see thy flight,
And my spirit shall soar with delight!
Hark! the merry echoes range
Thy notes’ descent, so sweet, so strange!
Thou wanderer on the balmy air,
Bring me news of the fields so fair!
Fly through wild woods, cup of bliss,
And pour on them a happy kiss!
Bittersweet thou art to me,
Life and love through thee I foresee!
- Thomas Hood