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 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! 
 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. 
The immortal swan that did her life deplore.
The immortal swan that did her life deplore.
 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 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 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. 
 There's a double beauty whenever a swan
 Swims on a lake with her double thereon.  
 There's a double beauty whenever a swan
 Swims on a lake with her double thereon. 
 Thus does the white swan, as he lies on the wet grass, when the 
Fates summon him, sing at read more 
 Thus does the white swan, as he lies on the wet grass, when the 
Fates summon him, sing at the fords of Maeander.