The Swan

Thou swan, upon the waters bright,

In lime-hued vest, like abbot white!

Bird of the spray, to whom is giv'n

The raiment of the men of heav'n;

Bird of broad hand, in youth's proud age,

Syvaddon was thy heritage!

Two gifts in thee, fair bird, unite

To glean the fish in yonder lake,

And bending o'er yon hills thy flight

A glance at earth and sea to take.

Oh! 'tis a noble
task to ride

The billows countless as the snow;

Thy long fair neck (thou thing of pride!)

Thy hook to catch the fish below;

Thou guardian of the fountain head,

By which Syvaddon's waves are fed!

Above the dingle's rugged streams,

Intensely white thy raiment gleams;

Thy shirt like crystal tissue seems;

Thy doublet, and thy waistcoat bright,

Like thousand lilies meet the sight;

Thy jacket is of the white rose,

Thy gown the woodbine's flow'rs compose, {142}

Thou glory of the birds of air,

Thou bird of heav'n, oh, hear my pray'r!

And visit in her dwelling place

The lady of illustrious race:

Haste on an embassy to her,

My kind white-bosomed messenger--

Upon the waves thy course begin,

And then at Cemaes take to shore;

And there through all the land explore,

For the bright maid of Talyllyn,

The lady fair as the moon's flame,

And call her "Paragon" by name;

The chamber of the beauty seek,

And mount with footsteps slow and meek;

Salute her, and to her reveal

The cares and agonies I feel--

And in return bring to my ear

Message of hope, my heart to cheer!

Oh, may no danger hover near

(Bird of majestic head) thy flight!

Thy service I will well requite!