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I. THIS is the weather the cuckoo likes, / And so do I; / When showers betumble the chestnut spikes, / And nestlings fly: / And the little brown nightingale bills his best, / And they sit outside at "The Travellers' Rest," / And maids come forth sprig-muslin drest, / And citizens dream of the south and west, / And so do I.
II. This is the weather the shepherd shuns, / And so do I; / When beeches drip in browns and duns, / And thresh, and ply; / And hill-hid tides throb, throe on throe, / And meadow rivulets overflow, / And drops on gate-bars hang in a row, / And rooks in families homeward go, / And so do I.