cygnet🔊

I am the cygnet to this pale faint swan, / Who chants a doleful hymn to his own death, / And from the organ-pipe of frailty sings / His soul and body to their lasting rest.

The same may be urged, with equal truth, of the Gothic hall, which, with its darkened and tinted windows, its elevated and gloomy roof, and massive oaken table garnished with boar's-head and rosemary, pheasants and peacocks, cranes and cygnets, has an excellent effect in fictitious description.