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<div style="background:#fff;border:#bbb dashed 1px;padding:5px"><a href="http://en.citatepedia.ro/comments.php?id=454936" style="color:#000;text-decoration:none"><div style="margin:10px 0"><strong>Ode III: To The Cuckow</strong></div><div style="margin:10px 0">I.<br>O rustic herald of the spring,<br>At length in yonder woody vale<br>Fast by the brook I hear thee sing;<br>And, studious of thy homely tale,<br>Amid the vespers of the grove,<br>Amid the chaunting choir of love,<br>Thy sage responses hail.</div><div style="margin:10px 0">II.<br>The time has been when I have frown'd<br>To hear thy voice the woods invade;<br>And while thy solemn accent drown'd<br>Some sweeter poet of the shade,<br>Thus, thought I, thus the sons of care<br>Some constant youth or generous fair<br>With dull advice upbraid.</div><div style="margin:10px 0">III.<br>I said, 'While Philomela's song<br>'Proclaims the passion of the grove,<br>'It ill beseems a cuckow's tongue<br>'Her charming language to reprove'—<br>Alas, how much a lover's ear<br>Hates all the sober truth to hear,<br>The sober truth of love!</div><div style="margin:10px 0">IV.<br>When hearts are in each other bless'd,<br>When nought but lofty faith can rule<br>The nymph's and swain's consenting breast,<br>How cuckow-like in Cupid's school,<br>With store of grave prudential saws<br>On fortune's power and custom's laws,<br>Appears each friendly fool!</div><div style="margin:10px 0">V.<br>Yet think betimes, ye gentle train<br>Whom love and hope and fancy sway,<br>Who every harsher care disdain,<br>Who by the morning judge the day,<br>Think that, in April's fairest hours,<br>To warbling shades and painted flowers<br>The cuckow joins his lay.</div><div style="margin:10px 0"><br /></a><br />poem by <a href="http://en.citatepedia.ro/by.php?a=Mark+Akenside">Mark Akenside</a><div class=q>
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<script type="text/javascript" src="//s7.addthis.com/js/300/addthis_widget.js#pubid=citatepedia" async="async"></script><div style="display:inline-block" class="addthis_sharing_toolbox" data-url="http://en.citatepedia.ro/comments.php?id=454936" data-title="Ode III: To The Cuckow de Mark Akenside" data-description="I.
O rustic herald of the spring,
At length in yonder woody vale
Fast by the brook I hear thee sing;
And, studious of thy homely tale,
Amid the vespers of the grove,
Amid the chaunting choir of love,
Thy sage responses hail.

II.
The time has been..."></div>
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