WHEN in sorrow, they dare not show it, However mournful their mood, For the swan, like the soul of the poet, By the dull world is ill understood. And in their death-hour they waken The air, and break into song; And, unless my ears are mistaken, They sing now, while sailing along. | Discover our Poem Explanations and Poet Analyses!Other Poems of Interest...SEPULCHRE by GEORGIA DOUGLAS JOHNSON EPIGRAM: 118. ON GUT by BEN JONSON DAUGHTERS OF WAR by ISAAC ROSENBERG MONNA INNOMINATA, A SONNET OF SONNETS: 13 by CHRISTINA GEORGINA ROSSETTI AMORETTI: 70 by EDMUND SPENSER BEAUREGARD by CATHERINE ANNE WARFIELD |