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

I will play the swan,
And die in music.

I will play the swan,
And die in music.

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 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,
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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.

And over the pond are sailing
Two swans all white as snow;
Sweet voices mysteriously wailing
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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.

All our geese are swans.

All our geese are swans.

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.

Let music sound while he doth make his choice;
Then if he lose he makes a swanlike end,
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Let music sound while he doth make his choice;
Then if he lose he makes a swanlike end,
Fading in music.