A Fragment

The cuckoo bird, he sings cu cu, Because he knows there’s nothing new; He will not cease nor will explain The age-old notes of his refrain.

The cuckoo bird, he sheds no tears, He is unvexed by human years; He sings amidst the month of May Until the final Judgement Day.

We briefly wake, we briefly dream, Till borne off by the rushing stream; Before we know what has been known, We meet new lovers fully grown.