the wild swans at coole
the trees are in their autumn beauty the woodland paths are dry under the hazed 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?
w b yeats
Beautiful, zero. Thanks for sharing it with us.
Aedh Wishes For The Cloths Of Heaven
Had I the heavensí embroidered cloths,
Enwrought with golden and silver light,
The blue and the dim and the dark cloths
Of night and light and the half light,
I would spread the cloths under your feet:
But I, being poor, have only my dreams;
I have spread my dreams under your feet;
Tread softly because you tread on my dreams.
W. B. Yeats, 1899
The Ducks of the Peabody
With the pomp and circumstance of a royal event
the five Mallards, one drake and four hens, with
their red and gold jacketed Duck Master, emerge
from their elevator to the music of
John Phillip Sousa's King Cotton March.
They march on the red carpet,
and then mount three steps into the fountain
where they splash and preen for the day.
The Peabody Duck Master, 2004
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