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in such comic colours before Richard, that a demon of laughter seized him. "Hippy verteth!" Every time he glanced at his uncle the song sprang up, and he laughed so immoderately that it looked like madness come upon him. "Why, why, why, what are you laughing at, my dear boy," said Hippias, and was provoked by the contagious exercise to a modest "ha! ha!"
'Wind bloweth, Cock croweth, Doodle-doo; Hippy verteth, Ricky sterteth, Sing Cuckoo! There's an old native pastoral! Why don't you write a Spring sonnet, Ricky? The asparagus-beds are full of promise, I hear, and eke the strawberry. Berries I fancy your Pegasus has a taste for.
Hippias, on finding the carriage-door closed on him, became all at once aware of the bright-haired hope which dwells in Change; for one who does not woo her too frequently; and to express his sudden relief from mental despondency at the amorous prospect, the Dyspepsy bent and gave his hands a sharp rub between his legs: which unlucky action brought Adrian's pastoral, "Hippy verteth, Sing cuckoo!"
"Summer is come in, Loud sings the cuckoo; Groweth seed and bloweth mead, And springs the wood now. Sing, cuckoo; The ewe bleateth for her lamb, The cow loweth for her calf, The bullock starteth. The buck verteth, Merrily sings the cuckoo, Cuckoo, cuckoo; Well sings the cuckoo, Mayest thou never cease."
Hippias, on finding the carriage-door closed on him, became all at once aware of the bright-haired hope which dwells in Change; for one who does not woo her too frequently; and to express his sudden relief from mental despondency at the amorous prospect, the Dyspepsy bent and gave his hands a sharp rub between his legs: which unlucky action brought Adrian's pastoral, "Hippy verteth, Sing cuckoo!"
in such comic colours before Richard, that a demon of laughter seized him. "Hippy verteth!" Every time he glanced at his uncle the song sprang up, and he laughed so immoderately that it looked like madness come upon him. "Why, why, why, what are you laughing at, my dear boy," said Hippias, and was provoked by the contagious exercise to a modest "ha! ha!"
It is a spring song, and it is so full of the sunny green of fresh young leaves, and of all the sights and sounds of early summer, that I think you will like it. "Summer is a-coming in, Loud sing cuckoo; Groweth seed and bloweth mead, And springeth the wood new, Sing cuckoo! Ewe bleateth after lamb, Loweth after calf the cow; Bullock starteth, buck verteth,* Merry sing cuckoo.
'Wind bloweth, Cock croweth, Doodle-doo; Hippy verteth, Ricky sterteth, Sing Cuckoo! There's an old native pastoral! Why don't you write a Spring sonnet, Ricky? The asparagus-beds are full of promise, I hear, and eke the strawberry. Berries I fancy your Pegasus has a taste for.
Perhaps you may be able to read it in that, so here it is: "Sumer is ycumen in, Lhude sing cuccu; Groweth sed, and bloweth med, And springth the wde nu, Sing cuccu! Awe bleteth after lomb, Lhouth after calve cu; Bulluc sterteth, bucke verteth, Murie sing cuccu. Cuccu, cuccu, well singes thu cuccu, Ne swike thu naver nu. Sing cuccu, nu, sing cuccu, Sing cuccu, sing cuccu, nu!"*
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