The Swan Of Moresby
An ancient ballad, the origins unknown, but
certainly a well known tale and very applicable to
“The grand folk of Moresby Hall”
“Where shall we meet tonight, my love,
Hid from the peeping eye;
Where only the silent moonlight, love,
Watches as we go by?”
“By Moresby Hall is a quiet place
That runs steep down to the shore,
Where folk, they tell me, still may trace
What Romans built before?”
“What need have we of ruins of old
While the moonlit waters shine?
There's a newer tale that must be told
Of the love in this heart of mine.
And there they came that Saint John's Eve
When the midsummer moon like gold
Made it easy for love to believe
The oldest story told.
“Here, my love,” young Peter said,
“Was once an ancient court
Where the Lords of Moresby, long since dead,
Gathered to dance and sport.
They say there's a treasure deep below
That only the one true heir
If his heart is pure as new-fall'n snow
May find as his lawful share;
But first he must hear the phantom wail
And see a fountain spring ….
“Oh hush, my love, this is no tale
For luck in love to bring.”
And oh, look there! What is it gleams
Like silver under the moon?
Out of the rock what water streams
To the night-wind's sleepy tune?
How slowly the living waters make
Without a murmur of sound
The shining wonder of a lake,
As if this were holy ground.”
And what moves there, at the water's brim
In a shape so pale and wan?
Like crystal out of the twilight dim
Floats a pure white swan.
It seemed to be moulded only of light
That to no flesh could belong;
And strangely all the summer night
Is filled with quiet song.
“Dear God” said Peter, “we have seen
A wonder past man's measure.
This must be that fabled sign,
The guardian of the treasure.”
But now at the breath of a spoken word
The vision began to fade,
And soon the only music heard
By the whispering sea was made.
“Love is in the air”
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