Thomas Hardy - WeathersThomas Hardy - Weathers
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This is the weather the cuckoo likes,
And so do I;
When showers betumble the chestnut spikes,
And nestlings fly;
And the little brown nightingale bills his best,
And they sit outside at `The Traveller`s Rest,`
And maids come forth sprig-muslin drest,
And citizens dream of the south and west,
And so do I.
II.
This is the weather the shepherd shuns,
And so do I;
When beeches drip in browns and duns,
And thresh and ply;
And hill-hid tides throb, throe on throe,
And meadow rivulets overflow,
And drops on gate bars hang in a row,
And rooks in families homeward go,
And so do I.
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