II

  The Sun has long been set:
  The Stars are out by twos and threes;
  The little Birds are piping yet
  Among the bushes and trees;
  There's a Cuckoo, and one or two thrushes;
  And a noise of wind that rushes,
  With a noise of water that gushes;
  And the Cuckoo's sovereign cry
  Fills all the hollow of the sky!



  Who would go "parading"                                  10
  In London, and "masquerading,"
  On such a night of June?
  With that beautiful soft half-moon,
  And all these innocent blisses,
  On such a night as this is!