A Child's Question, August

Starling swarms will soon be lorn
Rooks tell stories 'cross the corn
Goocoo soon will 'es leave make
Swifts abandon autumn's ache

What says dunnick, drush or dove?
Love me tender? Tender love?

Hear the grinding wheel-bird grieve
Grief unknits my ravelled sleeve
Death of zummer, death of play
Waxing night and dwindling day

Help me dunnick, drush and dove
Love me tender, tender love

Help me dunnick, drush and dove
Love me tender, tender love
Help me dunnick, drush and dove
Love me tender, tender love