This is the weather the cuckoo likes, And so do I; When showers betumble the chestnut spikes, And nestlings fly: And the little brown nightingale bills his best, And they sit outside at 'TheTravellers' Rest', And maids come forth sprig-muslin drest, And citizens dream of the south and west, And so do I.
O chestnut tree, great-rooted blossomer, Are you the leaf, the blossom, or the bole? O body swayed to music,O brightening glance, How can we know the dancer from the dance?
His hair is of a good colour. An excellent colour; your chestnut was ever the only colour.william shakespeare
When I see the chestnut letting All her lovely blossoms falter down, I think, "Alas the day!"jean ingelow