Spring bursts into color and sound: pied daisies, blue violets, silver-white lady-smocks, and yellow buds paint the meadows. Shepherds pipe tunes on oat straws, larks sing like clocks, doves and rooks pair off, and girls bleach their summer smocks. Everything feels fresh and alive. Then the cuckoo chimes in. Its two-note cry doesn’t just celebrate the season — it mocks married men, because “cuckoo” sounds like “cuckold,” a word of shame and betrayal. The bird’s call becomes a “word of fear,” unpleasing to any husband’s ear. The speaker seems to enjoy this sly joke, letting the cuckoo undercut the beauty with a reminder that spring’s fertility has a threatening side. The mood hovers between delight and dark comedy: nature is both gorgeous and full of mockery, exposing the worry behind the cheer.
Spring — Summary
When daisies pied, and violets blue, And lady-smocks all silver-white, And cuckoo-buds of yellow hue Do paint the meadows with delight, The cuckoo then, on every tree, Mocks married men, for thus sings he: 'Cuckoo! Cuckoo, cuckoo!' O word of fear, Unpleasing to a married ear. When shepherds pipe on oaten straws, And merry larks are ploughmen's clocks, When turtles tread, and rooks, and daws, And maidens bleach their summer smocks, The cuckoo then, on every tree, Mocks married men, for thus sings he: 'Cuckoo! Cuckoo, cuckoo!' O word of fear, Unpleasing to a married ear.