WB. Yeats, one of the 20th century's finest poets was also known for his eccentric views on religion and politics. I love this poem for how skillfully Yeats creates the nostalgia of years past and the arrival, once more, of autumn. And note the single swan while the others are paired.
W.B. Yeats (1865–1939). The Wild Swans at Coole. 1919.
1. The Wild Swans at Coole
| THE TREES are in their autumn beauty, |
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| The woodland paths are dry, |
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| Under the October twilight the water |
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| Mirrors a still sky; |
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| Upon the brimming water among the stones |
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| Are nine and fifty swans. |
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| The nineteenth Autumn has come upon me |
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| Since I first made my count; |
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| I saw, before I had well finished, |
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| All suddenly mount |
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| And scatter wheeling in great broken rings |
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| Upon their clamorous wings. |
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| I have looked upon those brilliant creatures, |
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| And now my heart is sore. |
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| All’s changed since I, hearing at twilight, |
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| The first time on this shore, |
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| The bell-beat of their wings above my head, |
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| Trod with a lighter tread. |
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| Unwearied still, lover by lover, |
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| They paddle in the cold, |
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| Companionable streams or climb the air; |
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| Their hearts have not grown old; |
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| Passion or conquest, wander where they will, |
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| Attend upon them still. |
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| But now they drift on the still water |
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| Mysterious, beautiful; |
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| Among what rushes will they build, |
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| By what lake’s edge or pool |
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| Delight men’s eyes, when I awake some day |
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| To find they have flown away? |
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Ron