The Poem

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The sun has long been set,
The stars are out by twos and threes,
The little birds are piping yet
Among the bushes and trees;
There's a cuckoo, and one or two thrushes,
And a far-off wind that rushes,
And a sound of water that gushes,
And the cuckoo's sovereign cry
Fills all the hollow of the sky.
Who would go "parading"
In London, "and masquerading,"
On such a night of June
With that beautiful soft half-moon,
And all these innocent blisses?
On such a night as this is!
[Note]
[Contents 1802]
[Main Contents]
[1]
[2]



[B]

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[Variant 1:]

1807
... and the trees;1836

... and the trees;

The edition of 1837 returns to the text of 1807.

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