The Wild Swans at Coole David Leisner

The trees are in their autumn beauty
The woodland paths are dry
Under the October twilight the water
Mirrors a still sky;
Upon the brimming water among the stones
Are nine-and-fifty swans

The nineteenth autumn has come upon me
Since I first made my count;
I saw, before I had well finished
All suddenly mount
And scatter wheeling in great broken rings
Upon their clamorous wings

I have looked upon those brilliant creatures
And now my heart is sore
All’s changed since I, hearing at twilight
The first time on this shore
The bell-beat of their wings above my head
Trod with a lighter tread

Unwearied still, lover by lover
They paddle in the cold
Companionable streams or climb the air;
Their hearts have not grown old;
Passion or conquest, wander where they will
Attend upon them still