
This beautiful image, captured at Abbotsbury swannery, is in many of the papers today.
Here's George Meredith, near the end of his great sonnet sequence, Modern Love...
| WE saw the swallows gathering in the sky, | |
| And in the osier-isle we heard their noise. | |
| We had not to look back on summer joys, | |
| Or forward to a summer of bright dye; | |
| But in the largeness of the evening earth |
|
| Our spirits grew as we went side by side. | |
| The hour became her husband, and my bride. | |
| Love that had robb’d us so, thus bless’d our dearth! | |
| The pilgrims of the year wax’d very loud | |
| In multitudinous chatterings, as the flood | |
| Full brown came from the west, and like pale blood | |
| Expanded to the upper crimson cloud. | |
| Love, that had robb’d us of immortal things, | |
| This little moment mercifully gave, | |
| And still I see across the twilight wave | |
| The swan sail with her young beneath her wings. | |
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