...and after a many summer dies the swan
It withers slowly in thine arms
All night long amorous anthems sung
It's tears on your cheek, history of the fall
Sweet is the breath of night
With charm of earliest birds
Close over us, the silver star, thy guide
Dying embers, our only light
But see the many-coloured prime retired to rest
Thy loud-tongued blood demands supplies
Honour and beauty are but dreams
Big alike with wounds and dart
Like fiery dews that melt
The swan's soul into boughs does glide
Flaming swords forbiddeth, they banish me from you
Remembrance of a bitter loss
Ruined love, when it's built anew, grows fairer,
More strong, far greater
While glory crowns so many hatreds crest
Waking, thou wert in thy nakedness
...and after a many summer dies the swan