The Wild Swans at Coole

The trees are in their autumn beauty, The woodland paths are dry, Under the water’s floating, The skies are overhanging while The wind is soft and low.

I have been a long time kissing The honey-laden air, Where the swans sweep by Into the twilight of the waters, Collecting all those memories that rise, Of each brilliant day gone by.

I have fought a long war alone, In thought and imagery, But now I will not stand at all, That yearning has slipped away like the sigh Of the swans turning to rest.

I’ll kneel in a prayer at dusk, I’ll watch the swans unfold their wings; Impressions of a dream drift away, What once was for me is no more for thee.

• William Butler Yeats