Full Lyrics
How dear are the joys of spring time,
We feel not a sorrow or care,
When the feathered warblers’ music
Softly floats on the balmy air.
Hark, hark!
Cuckoo, cuckoo,
List, list!
Cuckoo, cuckoo,
Swiftly the evening glides along,
As we list to the cuckoo’s song.
They fly to the cot and palace,
They soar over hill and mead,
And sing to the lonely shepherd,
And the flocks that round him feed.
They bring back the scenes of childhood,
The days that are past and gone,
When often I used to listen
To the cuckoo’s plaintive song.
