Читать книгу Come Hither: A Collection of Rhymes and Poems for the Young of All Ages - Various - Страница 26

THE SPRING

What bird so sings, yet so does wail?

O, 'tis the ravished nightingale!

"Jug, jug, jug, jug, tereu," she cries,

And still her woes at midnight rise.

Brave prick-song! who is't now we hear?

None but the lark so shrill and clear;

Now at heaven's gates she claps her wings,

The morn not waking till she sings.

Hark, hark, with what a pretty throat

Poor robin-redbreast tunes his note;

Hark, how the jolly cuckoos sing

Cuckoo—to welcome in the spring!

John Lyly