The stately-sailing swan
Gives out his snowy plumage to the gale;
And, arching proud his neck, with read more

The stately-sailing swan
Gives out his snowy plumage to the gale;
And, arching proud his neck, with oary feet
Bears forward fierce, and guards his osier isle,
Protective of his young.

The swan in the pool is singing,
And up and down doth he steer,
And, singing gently read more

The swan in the pool is singing,
And up and down doth he steer,
And, singing gently ever,
Dips under the water clear.

I am the cygnet to this pale faint swan,
Who chants a doleful hymn to his own death,
read more

I am the cygnet to this pale faint swan,
Who chants a doleful hymn to his own death,
And from the organ-pipe of fraity sings
His soul and body to their lasting rest.

Her tongue will not obey her heart, nor can
Her heart inform her tongue--the swan's down-feather
That read more

Her tongue will not obey her heart, nor can
Her heart inform her tongue--the swan's down-feather
That stands upon the swell at full of tide,
And neither way inclines.

The swan, with arched neck
Between her white wings mantling proudly, rows
Her state with oary feet.

The swan, with arched neck
Between her white wings mantling proudly, rows
Her state with oary feet.

The swan, like the soul of the poet,
By the dull world is ill understood.

The swan, like the soul of the poet,
By the dull world is ill understood.

Death darkens his eyes, and unplumes his wings,
Yet the sweetest song is the last he sings:
read more

Death darkens his eyes, and unplumes his wings,
Yet the sweetest song is the last he sings:
Live so, my Love, that when death shall come,
Swan-like and sweet it may waft thee home.

The dying swan, when years her temples pierce,
In music-strains breathes out her life and verse,
And, read more

The dying swan, when years her temples pierce,
In music-strains breathes out her life and verse,
And, chanting her own dirge, tides on her wat'ry hearse.

Place me on Sunium's marbled steep,
Where nothing save the waves and I
May hear our mutual read more

Place me on Sunium's marbled steep,
Where nothing save the waves and I
May hear our mutual murmurs sweep;
There, swan-like, let me sing and die.