  “Ah! wild swans winging southward, I would fly with you to-night; Southward, ever swiftly southward, through the autumn grey twilight. “You will leave these downs and gullies, and the white cliffs far behind, Sailing on above the waters in the music of the wind. “And the seamen on their highway looking up will see you fly, Like a misty shadow moving o’er the moon-illumined sky. “Day and night and all things changing,—sunny skies and overcast,— Till the cloud-engirdled mountains and the snowy peaks are passed. “We should near the lands of laughter and the vines and olive trees, Watch the little sails at sundown sparkle out on summer seas; “Day and night and ever flying till we reached the wonderland, And the seaward branching river, and the desert ways of sand; “Saw beneath us standing lonely that grave bird that never sings, Like a solemn sentry guarding by the giant tombs of kings. “And I think it would be sunset when our journeying was done, And the silver of your plumage would be crimsoned in the sun; “In a pleasant land of palm-trees, where the lotus lilies grow, And the fruits of many flood-tides by the river borders blow; “There forgetting and forgotten, and not any one to hear, I would sing to you, that sing not, all the winter of the year.” Brighter burn the stars and colder, twilight deepens into night, Moans the wind among the willows, and the swans fade out of sight. |
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