From yonder hedge, from yonder spray,
He calls me onward and away;
Broad lies the world and fair to see,
The cuckoo calls, is calling me!

I have not seen nor heard of Care,
Who used my very bed to share,
Since that first morn when, airily,
The cuckoo, calling, called to me!

My sweetheart's face? I have forgot;
My mother? But she calls me not;
From that green bank, from that dim lea,
The cuckoo calls, is calling me!

And I must go, I may not choose;
No gain there is, nor aught to lose;
And soon, ah, soon!, on some wild tree
The bird sits long and waits for me!

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