A  Sweeping View

As composed by Orlando Gibbons, this is a "swan song." She sings once and dies. What about her life? I was challenged to write a first verse by a wonderful madrigal group and so I did. In the meantime I asked an on-line discussion group about it and one of the answers was "For what it's worth, I don't believe there is a second verse: the poem's beauty lies in its simplicity and its brevity of expression - adding a second verse would make a goose of the author! " Well too late. If by adding a first verse to this poem makes a goose out of me, than so be it.
  The Silver Swan

The silver swan who, living, far remote,  

To restful peace and thought her life devote.  

Closing her eyes while raucous flocks fly o’er, 

She would the depths within her soul explore.  

Who knows the joys of life unrushed she sighs;  

More geese than swans do live, more fools than wise.

August 20, 2000

 

Original verse by Orlando Gibbons  

The silver swan who, living, had no note,

When death approach’d, unlock’d her silent throat.  

Leaning her breast against the reedy shore  

Thus sang her first and last, and sang no more.  

Farewell, all joys, O death, come close mine eyes;  

More geese than swans now live, more fools than wise.  

 

 

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