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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 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.
We bodged again, as I have been a swan
With bootless labor swim against the tide
And read more
We bodged again, as I have been a swan
With bootless labor swim against the tide
And spend her strength with overmatching waves.
The swan murmurs sweet strains with a flattering tongue, itself
the singer of its own dirge.
The swan murmurs sweet strains with a flattering tongue, itself
the singer of its own dirge.
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.
I will play the swan,
And die in music.
I will play the swan,
And die in music.
The swan is not without cause dedicated to Apollo, because
foreseeing his happiness in death, he dies with singing read more
The swan is not without cause dedicated to Apollo, because
foreseeing his happiness in death, he dies with singing and
pleasure.
[Lat., Cignoni non sine causa Apoloni dicata sint, quod ab eo
divinationem habere videantur, qua providentes quid in morte boni
sit, cum cantu et voluptate moriantur.]
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.
