The Wild Swans At Coole
The Wild Swans At Coole
THE trees are in their autumy,
The woodland paths are dry,
Uhe October twilight the water
Mirrors a still sky;
Upon the brimming water among the stones
Are nine-and-fifty Swans.
The eenth autumn has e upon me
Since I first made my t;
I saw, before I had well finished,
All suddenly mount
And scatter wheeling i broken rings
Upon their clamorous wings.
I have looked upon those brilliant creatures,
And now my heart is sore.
Alls ged since I, hearing at twilight,
The first time on this shore,
The bell-beat of their wings above my head,
Trod with a lighter tread.
Unwearied still, lover by lover,
They paddle in the cold
panioreams or climb the air;
Their hearts have not grown old;
Passion or quest, wander where they will,
Attend upoill.
But now they drift oill water,
Mysterious, beautiful;
Among what rushes will they build,
By what lakes edge or pool
Delight mens eyes when I awake some day
To find they have flown away?