The Cuckoo

Oh the cuckoo she's a pretty bird She sings as she flies She bringeth good tiding, she telleth no lies She sucketh white flowers For to keep her voice clear And never she sings 'cuckoo' til summer draweth near As I was a-walking and talking one day I met my own true love as he came that way Though to meet him was a pleasure Though the courting was a-woe For I've found him false hearted, he'd kiss me And then he'd go I wish I was a scholar and could handle the pen I'd write to my lover and to all roving men I would tell them of the grief and woe that attend on their lies I would wish them have pity on the flower, when it dies I wish I was a scholar and could handle the pen I'd write to my lover and to all roving men I would tell them of the grief and woe that attend on their lies I would wish them have pity on the flower, when it dies As I was a-walking and talking one day I met my own true love as he came that way Though to meet him was a pleasure Though the courting was a-woe For I've found him false hearted, he'd kiss me And then he'd go Oh the cuckoo she's a pretty bird She sings as she flies She bringeth good tiding, she telleth no lies She sucketh white flowers For to keep her voice clear And never she sings 'cuckoo' til summer draweth near And never she sings 'cuckoo' til summer draweth near