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The cuckou song

The cuckou song.

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The cuckou song

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  1. The cuckousong Sumerisycomen in,Loudesingcuckou!Growethseed and blowethmeed,And springth the wodenow.Singcuckou!Ewebletethafterlamb,Lowethafter calve cow,Bullocsterteth, buckeverteth,Meryesingcuckou!Cuckou, cuckou,Welsingestthoucuckou:Ne swikthounevernow! http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=3-5axHaBlvo&feature=related

  2. Summerhas come,Loudlysingcuckoo!Growethseed and bloomsmeadAnd springs the woodnow.Singcuckoo! Ewebleatsafterlamb,Lowsaftercalf the cow,Bullock starts, buckfarts;Merrilysingcuckoo!Cuckoo! cuckoo!Wellsingthoucuckoo.Ceasethounevernow! Singcuckoonow, Singcuckoo!Singcuckoo, Singcuckoonow!

  3. Geoffrey ChaucerThe Canterbury TalesPrologue WHAN that Aprille with his shouressoote The droghte of Marche hath perced to the roote, And bathed every veyne in swichlicour, Of which vertuengendred is the flour; WhanZephirus eek with his swetebreeth Inspired hath in every holt and heeth The tendrecroppes, and the yongesonne Hath in the Ram his halfecours y-ronne, And smalefowlesmakenmelodye, That slepen al the night with open ye, (So priketh hem nature in hircorages: Than longen folk to goon on pilgrimages, And palmers for to sekenstraungestrondes, To fernehalwes, couthe in sondrylondes; And specially, from every shires ende Of Engelond, to Caunterbury they wende, The holy blisfulmartir for to seke, That hem hath holpen, whan that they were seke.

  4. T. S. Eliot The WasteLand April is the cruellest month, breedingLilacs out of the dead land, mixing Memory and desire, stirring Dull roots with spring rain. Winter kept us warm, covering Earth in forgetful snow, feeding A little life with dried tubers. Summer surprised us, coming over the StarnbergerseeWith a shower of rain; we stopped in the colonnade, And went on in sunlight, into the Hofgarten, And drank coffee, and talked for an hour. Bin gar kineRussin, stamm' ausLitauen, echtdeutsch. And when we were children, staying at the archduke's, My cousin's, he took me out on a sled,And I was frightened. He said, Marie, Marie, hold on tight. And down we went. In the mountains, there you feel free. I read, much of the night, and go south in the winter.

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