The cuckoo, like a hawk in flight, br With narrow pointed wings br Whews o'er our heads - soon out of sight br And as she flies she sings: br And darting down the hedgerow side br She scares the little bird br Who leaves the nest it cannot hide br While plaintive notes are heard. br br I've watched it on an old oak tree br Sing half an hour away br Until its quick eye noticed me br And then it whewed away. br Its mouth when open shone as red br As hips upon the brier, br Like stock doves seemed its winged head br But striving to get higher br br It heard me rustle and above leaves br Soon did its flight pursue, br Still waking summer's melodies br And singing as it flew. br So quick it flies from wood to wood br 'Tis miles off 'ere you think it gone; br I've thought when I have listening stood br Full twenty sang - when only one. br br When summer from the forest starts br Its melody with silence lies, br And, like a bird from foreign parts, br It cannot sing for all it tries. br 'Cuck cuck' it cries and mocking boys br Crie 'Cuck' and then it stutters more br Till quick forgot its own sweet voice br It seems to know itself no more.