The New Comers

Two swallows—each preening a long glossy feather;Now they gossip and dart through the silvery weather;Oh, praise to the Highest—two lovers together—Free, free, in the fathomless world of air.

No fate to oppose and no fortune to sunder;Blue sky overhead—green sea breaking under;And their home on the cliff in the midst of the wonder,Hung high beyond fear on the gray granite stair.