The Wild Swans at Coole

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The Wild Swans at Coole :

The trees are in their autumn beauty.
The woodland paths are dry.
Under the October twilight the water
Mirrors a still sky;
Upon the brimming water among the stones
Are nine-and-fifty swans.

The nineteenth autumn has come upon me
Since I first made my count;
I saw. before I had well finished.
All suddenly mount
And scatter wheeling in great broken rings
Upon their clamorous wings.

I have looked upon those brilliant creatures.
And now my heart is sore.
All's changed 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
Companionable streams or climb the air:
Their hearts have not grown old:
Passion or conquest, wander where they will.
Attend upon them still.

But now they drift on the still water.
Mysterious, beautiful:
Among what rushes will they build.
By what lake’s edge or pool
Delight men’s eyes when I awake some day
To find they have flown away?

By William Butler Yeats

The Wild Swans at Coole

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