This is the weather the cuckoo likes, br And so do I; br When showers betumble the chestnut spikes, br And nestlings fly; br And the little brown nightingale bills his best, br And they sit outside at 'The Traveller's Rest,' br And maids come forth sprig-muslin drest, br And citizens dream of the south and west, br And so do I. br br This is the weather the shepherd shuns, br And so do I; br When beeches drip in browns and duns, br And thresh and ply; br And hill-hid tides throb, throe on throe, br And meadow rivulets overflow, br And drops on gate bars hang in a row, br And rooks in families homeward go, br And so do I.