The Isles of Loch Awe and Other Poems of my Youth With Sixteen Illustrations. By Philip Gilbert Hamerton |
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THE WIDOWED SWAN. |
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 | The Isles of Loch Awe and Other Poems of my Youth |  |
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THE WIDOWED SWAN.
The valley narrowed, and the lofty cliffs
Relieved their outline on the rainy sky,
An outline rough with crags; and lower down,
Where it by steps descended to the fields,
The pines were bristling; and the reddening birch,
And woods of oak upon the mountain's foot,
Approached the borders of a little tarn.
The sky was tinged with faint and flushing red,
Wherewith the clouds grew luminous, and showed
Within their masses forms and distances.
Relieved their outline on the rainy sky,
An outline rough with crags; and lower down,
Where it by steps descended to the fields,
The pines were bristling; and the reddening birch,
And woods of oak upon the mountain's foot,
Approached the borders of a little tarn.
The sky was tinged with faint and flushing red,
Wherewith the clouds grew luminous, and showed
Within their masses forms and distances.
The water of the tarn was silvery white,
Enriched with rose reflected from above.
All round its shallow marge dark rushes grew:
And, as the water deepened, here and there
A little clump unwilling to be drowned
Pierced with sharp points the silver of the surface.
Amongst them floated like a lump of snow
A stately swan, so lifeless, still, and cold,
Except the graceful poising of the head
Almost inanimate. She came so near
That I could see the yellow of her beak,
And her black eyebrows and her mournful air,
For she was in the grief of widowhood;
Her mate was dead, and from that other pond,
Where they had lived together with their young,
She flew across to this for change of scene.
Enriched with rose reflected from above.
All round its shallow marge dark rushes grew:
And, as the water deepened, here and there
A little clump unwilling to be drowned
Pierced with sharp points the silver of the surface.
179
A stately swan, so lifeless, still, and cold,
Except the graceful poising of the head
Almost inanimate. She came so near
That I could see the yellow of her beak,
And her black eyebrows and her mournful air,
For she was in the grief of widowhood;
Her mate was dead, and from that other pond,
Where they had lived together with their young,
She flew across to this for change of scene.
Some water-hens were feeding on the land,
Which, with their breasts close-sweeping the wet ground,
Ran to the water-side when I approached,
And broke its silver with a trailing splash,
And in the rushes hid their dusky forms.
Small, lively, dark—what strange associates
For that majestic, snowy, stately swan!
Which, with their breasts close-sweeping the wet ground,
Ran to the water-side when I approached,
And broke its silver with a trailing splash,
And in the rushes hid their dusky forms.
Small, lively, dark—what strange associates
For that majestic, snowy, stately swan!
| The Isles of Loch Awe and Other Poems of my Youth | |