Blue July, bright July,
Month of the storms and gorgeous blue
Violet lightnings o’er thy sky,
Heavy falls of drenching dew;
Summer crown! O’er glen and glade
Shrinking hyacinths in their shade;
I welcome thee with all thy pride,
Though all the singing days are done
As in those climes that clasp the sun;
Though the cuckoo in his throat
Leaves to the dove his last twin note;
Come to me with thy lustrous eye,
Golden-dawning oriently,
Come with all thy shining blooms,
Thy rich red rose and rolling glooms.
Though the cuckoo doth but sing ‘cuk, cuk’
And the dove alone doth coo;
Though the cushat spins her coo-r-roo, r-r-roo-
To the cuckoo’s’s halting ‘cuk’
Sweet July, warm July!
Month when mosses near the stream,
Soft green mosses thick and shy,
Are a rapture and a dream.
Summer Queen! whose foot the fern
Fades beneath while chestnuts burn;
I welcome thee with thy fierce love,
Gloom below and gleam above.
Though all the forest trees hang dumb,
With dense leafiness o’ercome;
Though the nightingale and thrush,
Pipe not from the bough or bush;
Come to me with thy lustrous eye,
Azure-melting westerly,
The raptures of thy face unfold,
And welcome in thy robes of gold!
Tho ‘ the nightingale broods – ‘sweet-chuck-sweet’ –
And the ouzel flutes so chill,
Tho’ the throstle gives but one shrilly trill
To the nightingale’s -sweet-sweet’
A cushat is a wood pigeon, the throstle is a thrush, the ouzel a blackbird [also a member of the thrush family].