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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.
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.
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.
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.
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.
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.
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.
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.