TO A CUCKOO IN A HIGHWAY HEDGE

[ZaunköniG]

TO A CUCKOO IN A HIGHWAY HEDGE.

O cuckoo ! am I of my wits bereft ?
Or do I hear thee in the hedgerow there ?
The doves of old Dodona never left
Their oak, to babble near a thoroughfare ;
How shall thy mythic character outlive
Thy presence, by thy voice identified ?
How shall the fells and copses e'er forgive
Thy gadding visit to the highway-side ?
How art thou disenchanted ! self-betray'd !
Back, foolish bird ! return whence thou hast stray'd ;
A woody distance is thy vantage-ground ;
Thy song comes sweetest up from Moreham wood ;
Why notify thy claim to flesh and blood ?
The Muses know thee as a mystic sound.