“ The cuckoo is a fine bird, and she sings as she flies,
She brings us good tidings, she tells us no lies;
She sucks all the birds' eggs, to make her voice clear,
And never sings Cuckoo till the summer draws near.
Meeting is a pleasure, parting is a grief;
An inconstant lover is worse than a thief;
A thief can but rob you, and take all you have.
An inconstant lover will bring you to the grave! ”