The Silver Swan

Short poem today, but overwhelmingly beautiful, and one that doesn’t need much of an introduction.

 

The Silver Swan

The silver swan, who living had no note,

When death approached, unlocked her silent throat;

Leaning her breast against the ready shore,

Thus sung her first and last, and sung no more:

“Farewell, all joys; Oh death, come close mine eyes;

More geese than swans now live, more fools than wise.”

–Anonymous

 

The Silver Swan

The silver swan, who living had no note,

When death approached, unlocked her silent throat;

Leaning her breast against the ready shore,

Thus sung her first and last, and sung no more:

“Farewell, all joys; Oh death, come close mine eyes;

More geese than swans now live, more fools than wise.”

–Anonymous

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