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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.
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.
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.
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.
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 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.
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.
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.
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.