The Wild Swans at Coole

The trees are in their autumn beauty,
The woodland paths are dry,
Under the October twilight the water
Mirrors a still sky;
Upon the half-wet earth
They are often gone, but never alone.
The wild swans are five,
And I am their only companion.

I have looked out my solitude
As I await their return.

I have written my word as to the event;
But supremely have I
Given them freedom.
Let them come and go as they will,
For beyond the human eye lies their
Other kingdom,
And their journeys has been all I could want
Or mean or do
In the past year.

With the grace of their neat heads and their wings
Is the flight from here to there,
Yet I noted how frail they are,
And the freeness I have given them
Will also slip away from
My hands like water,
I cannot catch them again.

• Louis MacNeice