
letra de weathers - edith evans
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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
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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