The Cuckoo
The Cuckoo
The CUCKOO receives nearly as much notice from Shakespeare as the Owl. In the bright song at the end of Love’s Labour’s Lost both birds appear as symbolical, the one of spring, the other of winter.
When daisies pied and violets blue,
And lady-smocks all silver-white,
And cuckoo-buds of yellow hue
Do paint the meadows with delight:
The cuckoo then, on every tree,
Mocks married men; for thus sings he
Cuckoo, cuckoo, cuckoo.[115]