His own image; no longer a dark, gray bird, ugly and disagreeable to look at, but a graceful and beautiful swan. To be born in a duck's nest, in a farmyard, is of no consequence to a bird, if it is hatched from a swan's egg.
Thus does the white swan, as he lies on the wet grass, when the Fates summon him, sing at the fords of Mæander.
Wann geht der n a« chste Schwan? What time's the next swan?
The woods decay, the woods decayand fall, The vapours weep their burthen to the ground, Man comes and tills the field and lies beneath, And after manya summer dies the swan. Me only cruel immortality Consumes: I wither slowly in thine arms, Here at the quiet limit of the world.Tennyson
There's a double beauty whenever a swan Swims on a lake with her double thereon.thomas hood
Sweet swan of Avon! what a sight it were To see thee in our water yet appear, And make those flights upon the banks of Thames, That so did take Eliza, and our James. But stay, I see thee in the hemisphere Advanc'd, and made a constellation there! Shine forth, thou star of poets, and with rage, Or influence, chide, or cheer the drooping stage, Which, since thy flight from hence, hath mourn'd like night, And despairs day, but for thy volumes light.Ben Jonson
When the sad sun sinks, It shall pierce through the body of wax till it shrinks! No sunset, but the red awakening Of the last day concluding everything Struggles so sadly that time disappears, The redness of apocalypse, whose tears Fall on the child, exiled to her own proud Heart, as the swan makes its plumage a shroud For its eyes, the old swan, and is carried away From the plumage of grief to the eternal highway Of its hopes, where it looks on the diamonds divine Of a moribund star, which never more shall shine!stéphane mallarmé
Whether it be the sweeping eagle in his flight, or the open apple-blossom, the toiling work-horse, the blithe swan, the branching oak, the winding stream at its base, the drifting clouds, over all the coursing sun, form ever follows function, and this is the law. Where function does not change form does not change.
The raven once in snowy plumes was drest, White as the whitest dove's unsullied breast, Fair as the guardian of the Capitol, Soft as the swan; a large and lovely fowl His tongue, his prating tongue had changed him quite To sooty blackness from the purest white.
The jelous swan, agens hire deth that syngith.
The immortal swan that did her life deplore.
The dying swan, when years her temples pierce, In music-strains breathes out her life and verse, And, chanting her own dirge, tides on her wat'ry hearse.
As I have seen a swan With bootless labour swim against the tide And spend her strength with over-matching waves.william shakespeare
I am the cygnet to this pale faint swan, Who chants a doleful hymn to his own death; And, from the organ-pipe of frailty, sings His soul and body to their lasting rest.william shakespeare
Some full-breasted swan That, fluting a wild carol ere her death, Ruffles her pure cold plume, and takes the flood With swarthy webs.
The stately-sailing swan Gives out his snowy plumage to the gale; And, arching proud his neck, with oary feet Bears forward fierce, and guards his osier isle, Protective of his young.james thomson
The swan on still St. Mary's lake Float double, swan and shadow!william wordsworth
’T is strange that death should sing! I am the cygnet to this pale faint swan, Who chants a doleful hymn to his own death; And, from the organ-pipe of frailty, sings His soul and body to their lasting rest.william shakespeare
Get my swan costume ready.... Play that last measure very softly.
Sweet swan of Avon! What a sight it were To see thee in our waters yet appear, And make those flights upon the banks of Thames That so did take Eliza, and our James!Ben Jonson
I saw a lot of cool choreographing opportunities, but I was nervous about it. swan Lake is the most difficult thing to portray for a female ballet dancer; it really requires such specific qualities of articulation , agility , strength , and the arm work is something that takes a lot of training. I wasn’t necessarily thinking it was going to be a piece of cake.
swan flocks of lilies shoreward lying, In sweetness, not in music, dying.john greenleaf whittier
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