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T I T L E .  S W A N

P A S T E L  A N D  A C R Y L I C  O N  C A R D B O A R D

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"Some blue peaks in the distance rose,

And white against the cold-white sky,

Shone out their crowning snows. One willow over the river wept,

And shook the wave as the wind did sigh;

Above in the wind was the swallow,

Chasing itself at its own wild will,

And far thro' the marish green and still

The tangled water-courses slept,

Shot over with purple, and green, and yellow."