The Swallows Poem by John William Inchbold

As poised one time in quietness of thought,
The fiery clouds below, the clouds above,
With glory strange all round about me brought
By sun long past, yet leaving beams of love,
Whilst far below whispered the pale-lipped sea
To the still moon all rapturously fair,
Decked by the deep clear night most tenderly;
Thy peaceful spirit my companion there
Looked far as distant waters joined the sky,
My vision fixed and keen across the night
Beheld long living lines meandering nigh,
Till round us arrowed wings sustained their flight
In that most beauteous space—with thee and me:
And then these birds passed home beyond the sea.