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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.
The swan on still St. Mary's lake
Float double, swan and shadow!
The swan on still St. Mary's lake
Float double, swan and shadow!
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 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.
Some full-breasted swan
That, fluting a wild carol ere her death,
Ruffles her pure cold plume, and read more
Some full-breasted swan
That, fluting a wild carol ere her death,
Ruffles her pure cold plume, and takes the flood
With swarthy webs.
You think that upon the score of fore-knowledge and divining I am
infinitely inferior to the swans. When they read more
You think that upon the score of fore-knowledge and divining I am
infinitely inferior to the swans. When they perceive approaching
death they sing more merrily than before, because of the joy they
have in going to the God they serve.
And over the pond are sailing
Two swans all white as snow;
Sweet voices mysteriously wailing
read more
And over the pond are sailing
Two swans all white as snow;
Sweet voices mysteriously wailing
Pierce through me as onward they go.
They sail along, and a ringing
Sweet melody rises on high;
And when the swans begin singing,
They presently must die.
Coal-black is better than another hue
In that it scorns to bear another hue;
For all the read more
Coal-black is better than another hue
In that it scorns to bear another hue;
For all the water in the ocean
Can never turn the swan's black legs to white,
Although she lave them hourly in the flood.
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.