The Black Swans 



finer growths were sought. There have 

 been shadows dark, and bats and fear- 

 some cries of owls, as well as happy 

 May-time songs in leafy bowers. 

 Which is to say that this, our life at 

 Dumbiedykes, has simply been the 

 world-old blend of sunshine and of 

 storm. 



October's mellow haze has come. 

 The winter waits. We know not what 

 it has in store. Some time, somewhere, 

 perhaps around the evening lamp, 

 when north winds howl around your 

 Dumbiedykes or mine, when thoughts 

 of springs and summers past shall 

 only be as happy dreams that linger 

 long in memory, perchance we'll meet 

 again. 



And so we will not say "Farewell," 

 but just "Good night." 



