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| O, HOW the swans of Wilton | |
| Twenty abreast did go, | |
| Like country girls bound for the church, | |
| Sails set and all aglow! | |
| With pouting breast in pure white dressed | 5 |
| Softly gliding in a row. | |
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| Where through the weed’s green fleeces, | |
| The perch in brazen coat, | |
| The golden shuttles mermaids use | |
| Shot past my crimson float; | 10 |
| Where swinish carp were snoring loud | |
| Around the anchored boat. | |
| |
| Adown the gentle river | |
| The white swans bore in sail, | |
| Their full, soft feathers puffing out | 15 |
| Like canvas in the gale; | |
| And all the kine and dappled deer | |
| Stood watching in the vale. | |
| |
| The stately swans of Wilton | |
| Strutted and puffed along, | 20 |
| Like canons in their full white gowns | |
| Late for an evening song, | |
| When up the vale the peevish bell | |
| In vain has chided long. | |
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| O, how the swans of Wilton | 25 |
| Bore down the radiant stream! | |
| As calm as holy hermits’ lives, | |
| Or a play-tired infant’s dream; | |
| Like fairy beds of last year’s snow, | |
| Did these radiant creatures seem. | 30 |
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