"The Cuckoo" by Thomas Gillet (1832)

The Cuckoo

'Tis the cuckoo's voice! 'Tis the cuckoo's voice
Resounds, and it makes the woods rejoice,
Its startling note wakes hill and dale,
And is lovelier deem'd than the throstle's tale,
For it tells that the genial seasons come,
Of leafy woods and fields of bloom,
Of music and perfume, loves and joys,
Of balmy gales and clear blue skies.

'Tis the cuckoo's voice! 'Tis the cuckoo's voice
Resounds, and it makes my heart rejoice,
For the memory of by-gone days it brings,
Ere youth flew o'er me on downy wings;
Hope's iris gliding my prospect's extent,
Ere I knew what the world or what sorrow meant;
Man's follies and crimes to me yet unshown,
And I liv'd in a bright fairy world of my own.

'Tis the cuckoo's voice! 'Tis the cuckoo's voice
Resounds, and it makes the world rejoice,
Where rings that sound, but with pleasure 'tis heard?
Who but welcomes the visit of spring's sweet bird?
It speaks to the sick one of coming relief,
And beguiles e'en the lonely captive's grief;
'Tis the cuckoo's voice! 'Tis the cuckoo's voice
Resounds, and all nature's realms rejoice.

Thomas Gillet (1832)

Resource:
The juvenile wreath; poems chiefly on subjects of natural history [by T. Gillet]. (Free on Google Books)