A Night-Charge Against A Swan By A Lover

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The swan, wild-clanging, scoured the midnight lake,And broke my dream of Annie, and I lay,Through those brief hours before the dawn of day,Chiding the sound that startled me awake.Ungracious bird, why didst thou come betweenMy loving question and her dear reply?I saw her parted lip, her downcast eye,I saw how sweet her answer would have been,Hadst thou not cried just then in love's despite!For once, I pray, thy clamorous zeal forbear,And grant this easy boon to me and her:I claim my perfect dream: be mute to-night:Thy voice kept Annie silent: I foreseeThy silence will be Annie's voice to me.

© Turner Charles (Tennyson)