Eight Partsongs, Op. 119: No. 6, The Swallow

Low-flying swallow, tho' the sky be fair,
The sunshine soft,
Thou sleekest not with love the upper air,
Soaring aloft
Thy sharp and gleamy wing goes flashing by me.
Thy dusky white and blue thou'lt not deny me!

Thy nest's a bit of mine, thy little home
Set in the eaves.
When the roses leave the wall, where wilt thou roam,
When summer leaves?
Not lightly, flying friend, can I forego thee,
The longest day is all too short to know thee!