Michael Villiers, Idealist :: :: University of Virginia Library

‘In April
Come he will.’
‘Who doth roam?
Who will come?
Who? Who?’
‘Cuckoo!’
Is it only cuckoo? Why
Do you long so eagerly
For the coming of the cuckoo by-and-by?
‘In April
Come he will.’

‘In May
He sings all day.’
‘Whose the song
All day long?
Whose? Whose?’
‘Cuckoo's!’

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Is it only cuckoo's? Oh,
That is not for me to know!
Dearest music of all music loud or low.
‘In May
He sings all day.’

‘In June
He changes his tune.’
‘Who doth sing,
Varying?
Who? Who?’
‘Cuckoo!’
Has the joyous cuckoo-strain
That was echoed in your brain,
Caught the trouble of the coming loss and pain?
‘In June
He changes his tune.’

‘In July
Away he'll fly.’
(‘Ruth is it
Infinite!)
Who? Who?’
‘Cuckoo!’

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Oh, the summer goeth fast,
And the cuckoo-time is past;
Every day you hear him now may be the last.
‘In July
Away he'll fly.’

‘In August
Go he must.’
(‘What avail
Tears and wail?)
Who? Who?’
‘Cuckoo!’
Only cuckoo! and your face,
As you stand in your old place,
Wears the wonder of love's agony, love's grace.
‘In August
Go he must.’