Summer is a-coming in
Loudly sing cuckoo,
Groweth seed an bloweth mead
And spring'th the wood a-new.
Sing cuckoo, sing cuckoo.
Merry sing cuckoo
 
O the cuckoo she's a pretty bird
She singeth as she flies;
She bringeth good tidings,
She telleth no lies.
She suckeht white flowers
For to keep her voice clear;
And the more she singeth "Cuckoo"
The summer draweth near.
Ah..