The Wild Swans at Coole
The trees are in their autumn beauty
The woodland paths are dry
Under  October twilight the water
Mirrors a still sky;
Upon the brimming water among the stones
Are nine-and-fifty, nine-and-fifty, ah nine-and-fifty swans

The nineteenth autumn has come upon me
Since I first made my count
I saw, before I had well finished
All suddenly mount
And scatter wheeling in great broken rings
Upon clamorous wings

I have looked upon those brilliant creatures
And now my heart is sore
All's changed since I, hearing at twilight
The first time on this shore
The bell-beat of their wings above my head
Trod with a lighter tread
Unwearied still, lover by lover
They paddle in the cold
Companionable streams or climb the air;
Their hearts have not grown old;
Passion or conquest, wander where they will
Attend upon them still

Now they drift on the still water
Mysterious, beautiful
Among what rushes will they build
By what lake's edge or pool
Delight men's eyes when I awake some day
To find they have all flown away?
Have all flown away
Have all flown away
Have all flown away

[Outro]
Oh the wild swans, they all fly away
Oh the wild swans, they all fly away
Oh the wild swans, they all fly away
Oh the wild swans, they all fly away