Upon the Duke’s palatial grounds
where sparkling fountains streamed
in bright cascades of crystal sounds,
a rippling river gleamed,
and there, the cloud white swans would glide
with understated ease;
magnificent upon the tide,
their plumes caressed the breeze.
A young man watched their grace displayed
while seeking to adjourn
from where a stately quartet played,
reluctant to return.
His introduction had been new.
Invited as a guest,
with awkward glance, he soon withdrew
from speaking to the rest.
Returning now to greet the scene,
he saw a woman there.
In graceful dance, she swept serene;
a sylphlike vision fair.
Her opal gown was light as mist
that floated with a swirl;
a sight his heart could not resist
as he beheld her twirl.
She looked at him and faintly smiled;
with beauty’s pure design,
and he, enraptured and beguiled,
drank adoration’s wine.
They spoke in quiet tones and danced
together on the grass,
oblivious that time advanced.
The day was swift to pass,
and while he watched the sun recede,
with haste, she turned to go,
and made her way with quickened speed
towards the river’s flow.
He followed her in ardent chase.
She seemed to fade from view.
Her steps, his search was quick to trace,
to where a forest grew.
Amid the trees, he sought her still,
undaunted in pursuit,
exerting cogent strength and skill,
his passion resolute.
He thought he glimpsed her dress of silk
like platinum that gleamed,
transform to feathers pale as milk,
beneath the moon that beamed.
In rapid quest, he ran and saw
a swan in splendid flight,
ascending from the forest floor.
with wings of snowflake white.
The young man turning, looked around,
amazed and sad to find
a purse and feather on the ground;
the gifts she left behind.
He picked them up and held them near,
and breathed her sweet perfume
with silver moonlight shining clear,
upon her pearly plume.