I pass'd by a lake in its darkness:
    It was dark, for upon its breast,
In rolling clouds and in shadow,
    The face of the sky was imprest.

The air was thick and heavy,
    And the mist hung round like a blight,
And the boughs of the trees on the banks
    Closed round with the closing of night.

But amid the blackening waters
    Was one bright and beautiful thing,—
A swan, which, sailing in beauty,
    Spread ruffled each snow-white wing.

A sunbeam rested upon her
    From the only red cloud in the sky,
And a flush of crimson glory
    Lit the waves where that swan sailed by.

Then turned my heart, my beloved one!
    To sweet thoughts of thine and thee:
Such, in the hour of my darkness,
    Thy beauty has been unto me.

My white Swan, lovely and lonely,
    Brightening life's sullen tide,
Bland light and hope of the bosom
    Which had nor light nor hope beside!