The cuckoo?s a fine bird,
He sings as he flies;
He brings us good tidings
He tells us no lies.
He sucks little birds? eggs,
To make his voice clear;
And when he sings ?Cuckoo?
The summer is near !
The cuckoo is a merry bird,
She sings as she flies;
She brings us good tidings,
And tells us no lies.
She sucks little birds? eggs
To make her voice clear,
That she may sing Cuckoo!
Three months in the year. |