 | Birds and flowers and other country things |  |
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THE WILD SWAN.
Fair flows the river,
Smoothly gliding on;
Green grow the bulrushes
Around the stately swan.
What an isle of beauty
The noble bird hath formed,
The greenest trees and stateliest
Grow all the isle around.
Smoothly gliding on;
Green grow the bulrushes
Around the stately swan.
What an isle of beauty
The noble bird hath formed,
The greenest trees and stateliest
Grow all the isle around.
Low bend the branches
In the water bright,
Up comes the swan sailing,
Plumy all and white.
Like a ship at anchor,
Now he lies at rest,
And little waves seem daintily
To play about his breast.
In the water bright,
Up comes the swan sailing,
Plumy all and white.
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Now he lies at rest,
And little waves seem daintily
To play about his breast.
Wild bird of beauty,
Strong, and glad, and free!
Dwelling on these waters,—
How pleasant it must be!
Like a gleam of sunshine
In shadow passing on,—
Like a wreath of snow, thou art,
Wild and graceful swan!
Strong, and glad, and free!
Dwelling on these waters,—
How pleasant it must be!
Like a gleam of sunshine
In shadow passing on,—
Like a wreath of snow, thou art,
Wild and graceful swan!
Thick grow the flowers
'Neath the chestnut shade;
Green grow the bulrushes
Where thy nest is made:
Lovely ye, and loving, too,
The mother bird and thee,
Watching o'er your cygnet brood,
Beneath the river tree.
'Neath the chestnut shade;
Green grow the bulrushes
Where thy nest is made:
Lovely ye, and loving, too,
The mother bird and thee,
Watching o'er your cygnet brood,
Beneath the river tree.
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Kings made laws a-many,
Laws both stern and strong,
In the days of olden time,
You to keep from wrong;
And o'er their palace-waters
Ye went, a gallant show,
And Surrey and his Geraldine,
Beheld ye sailing slow.
Laws both stern and strong,
In the days of olden time,
You to keep from wrong;
And o'er their palace-waters
Ye went, a gallant show,
And Surrey and his Geraldine,
Beheld ye sailing slow.
Tell me, Swan, I pray thee,
Art of that high race,
Or a sylvan creature
From some far, lone place?
Saw ye in woody Athelney,
True Alfred's care and pain,
Or, riding out among his men,
Good King Canute the Dane?
Art of that high race,
Or a sylvan creature
From some far, lone place?
Saw ye in woody Athelney,
True Alfred's care and pain,
Or, riding out among his men,
Good King Canute the Dane?
No, from 'mid the icebergs,
Through long ages piled,
Sometime ye were driven
By the winter wild;
From where the ermine hunters,
On their far journeys go;
From where the rein-deer sledges speed
O'er the wastes of snow:
Through long ages piled,
Sometime ye were driven
By the winter wild;
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On their far journeys go;
From where the rein-deer sledges speed
O'er the wastes of snow:
From northern wildernesses,
Wild, and lone, and drear,
Ice-lakes, cold and gleaming,
Ye have hastened here.
The pleasant streams of England
Your homeward flight have stayed,
And here among the bulrushes
Your English nest is made.
Wild, and lone, and drear,
Ice-lakes, cold and gleaming,
Ye have hastened here.
The pleasant streams of England
Your homeward flight have stayed,
And here among the bulrushes
Your English nest is made.
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