The Silver Swan
The silver swan, who living had no note,
When death approached, unlocked her silent throat;
Leaning her breast against the reedy shore,
Thus sung her first and last, and sung no more.
Farewell, all joys; O Death, come close mine eyes;
More geese than swans now live, more fools than wise.
Orlando Gibbons
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1 comment:
Hi Julia,
I found this poem on here and I thought it was absolutely beautiful! I was wondering where you found this and if there were more like this? Not necessarily by the same person, but just more just as beautiful as this.
Thank you,
P.S. I am a huge fan.
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