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 |
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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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