THE DYING SWAN.
![](http://upload.wikimedia.org/wikipedia/commons/thumb/b/b1/Rule_Segment_-_Span_-_20px.svg/20px-Rule_Segment_-_Span_-_20px.svg.png)
![](http://upload.wikimedia.org/wikipedia/commons/thumb/d/db/Rule_Segment_-_Diamond_-_4px.svg/5px-Rule_Segment_-_Diamond_-_4px.svg.png)
![](http://upload.wikimedia.org/wikipedia/commons/thumb/b/b1/Rule_Segment_-_Span_-_20px.svg/20px-Rule_Segment_-_Span_-_20px.svg.png)
The plain was grassy, wild and bare,
Wide, wild, and open to the air,
Which had built up everywhere
An under-roof of doleful gray
With an inner voice the river ran,
Adown it floated a dying swan,
Which loudly did lament.
It was the middle of the day.
Ever the weary wind went on,
And took the reed-tops as it went.
Some blue peaks in the distance rose,
And white against the cold-white sky,
Shone out their crowning snows.