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