Dorothy Carter - The Cuckoo lyrics

The cuckoo, she's a pretty bird She singeth as she flies She brings us glad tidings She tells us no lies She s**s on small white flowers To make her sweet voice clear And the more she crieth cuckoo The summer draweth near I wish I were a scholar And could handle the pen I'd write to all lovers And to all wondering men I'd tell them of the cares and woes That descend upon our lives And I'd tell them to have pity On the flower when it dies