Pale upon the midnight stream Where waxen lilies lie, White shadows in the moonlight gleam -- Two swans are floating by. Serenely hushed and silently they go; No sorrow can deflower The cooling peace that lies as snow On this communion hour. Each folded wing from marble breast Is like a gentle sigh, So quietly they seem to rest Between the wave and sky. Upon the pathway of the lake From which they drift at last, No feather mars their virgin wake To tell perfection passed. |