---

The swan wept over her broken wings

She could not flee, to fly through the light

So saw the fox his time is to come

The one uprose and down the other fell

Over the sea she whittered her wings

And if not now were, it were not too soon

The fox smiled through the glittering grim

When he tightened the hold of now crying light

Then sorrowed he and now sorrows again

That it may not run unless virtue guide it

So if some good star, or better thing

Have given him good, he may himself not torment

But within fires the spirits are,

And every flame the fox steals away

Each whips himself with that wherewith he burns

The ambush of the swan, which made the door

Open to love, pain and suffering

The fox stood upon the bridge uprise to see

The swan once white is now turned to believe