The Bonny Cuckoo
My bonny cuckoo, I tell you true,
That through the groves I'll rove with you;
I'll rove with you until the spring,
And then my cuckoo shall sweetly sing.
Cuckoo, sing girls, let no one tell,
Until I settle my seasons well.
The ash and the hazel shall mourning say,
My bonny cuckoo, don't go away;
Don't go away, but tarry here,
And make the season last all the year.
Don't go away, but tarry hear,
And make the season last all the year.
From Bunting MS33 bk V p18 as published in Bunting's Ancient Music of Ireland edited from the
original manuscripts, DJ O' Sullivan with Mícheál O' Súilleabháin, 1983, p181.