To the Cuckoo O blithe newcomer! I have heard, I hear thee and rejoice: There is a spell in their watchword. And pleasing is the voice, — So exquisitely good, In peaceful hours by the wood, Sweet maid that sings, As I hear you, Devoutly sing the willing woods and hills.
O crying not for more, Till I can call you mine! And charming in your airy shape, You have a constant voice,
Cuckoo, cuckoo, on my quiet song! Sing on, Cuckoo,
A gentle breath along my silent mind.
- William Wordsworth