Threnody (“Far Away…”)

                     Far away,
                        As we hear
The song of wild swans winging
                     Through the day,
The thought of him, who is no more, comes ringing
                        On my ear.

                     Gentle fear
                        On the breast
Of my memory comes breaking,
                     Near and near,
As night winds’ murmurous music waking
                        Seas at rest.

                     As the blest
                        Tearful eye
Sees the sun, behind the ocean,
                     Red i’th’ west,
Grow pale, and in changing hues and fading motion
                        Wane and die:

                     So do I
                        Wake or dream

* * *

[Kelsall, 1851]