O blithe newcomer! I have heard, I hear thee and rejoice: O Cuckoo! shall I call thee bird, Or but a wandering Voice?
While I am lying on the grass Thy twofold shout I hear; From hill to hill it seems to pass, At once far off and near.
Though babbling only to the vale Of sunshine and of flowers, Thou bringest unto me a tale Of visionary hours.
Thrice welcome, darling of the Spring! Even yet thou art to me No bird, but an invisible thing, A voice, a mystery;
The same whom in my schoolboy days I listened to; that Cry Which made me look a thousand ways In bush, and tree, and sky.
To seek thee did I often rove Through woods and on the green; And thou wert still a hope, a love; Still longed for, never seen!
And I can listen to thee yet; Can lie upon the plain And listen, till I do beget That golden time again.
O blessed birth! the earth we pace Again appears to be An unsubstantial, fairy place, That is fit home for Thee!
It's the Spring Time here. The trees are covered with fresh leaves. A variety of birds could be seen here .Every morning becomes melodious by the sound of cuckoo. I wake up everyday with their sweet sound.No sound can be sweeter than than the sound of Cuckoo !