Attend upon them still.
Upon the brimming water among the stones
Delight mens eyes when I awake some day
Unwearied still, lover by lover,
And now my heart is sore.
By what lakes edge or pool
Their hearts have not grown old;
I have looked upon those brilliant creatures,
To find they have flown away?
The bell-beat of their wings above my head,
Among what rushes will they build,
Are nine-and-fifty Swans.
The Wild Swans At Coole
Trod with a lighter tread.
Allschanged since I, hearing at twilight,
Since I first made my count;
But now they drift on the still water,
Passion or conquest, wander where they will,
The woodland paths are dry,
I saw, before I had well finished,
Companionable streams or climb the air;
Mirrors a still sky;
And scatter wheeling in great broken rings
All suddenly mount
The nineteenth autumn has come upon me
They paddle in the cold
THE trees are in their autumn beauty,
Upon their clamorous wings.
Mysterious, beautiful;
The Wild Swans At Coole
Under the October twilight the water
The first time on this shore,
