From “Thyrsis”
SO, some tempestuous morn in early June,
  When the year’s primal burst of bloom is o’er,
    Before the roses and the longest day—
  When garden-walks and all the grassy floor
    With blossoms red and white of fallen May
      And chestnut-flowers are strewn—
  So have I heard the cuckoo’s parting cry,
    From the...