One swallow does not make spring.

When autumn scatters his departing gleams, Warn'd of approaching winter, gather'd, play The swallow-people; and toss'd wide around, O'er the calm sky, in convolution swift, The feather'd eddy floats; rejoicing once, Ere to their wintry slumbers they retire.

But, as old Swedish legends say, Of all the birds upon that day, The swallow felt the deepest grief, And longed to give her Lord relief, And chirped when any near would come. "Hugswala swala swal honom!" Meaning, as they who tell it deem, Oh, cool, oh, cool and comfort Him!

One swallowe proveth not that summer is neare.

Now to the Goths, as swift as swallow flies, There to dispose this treasure in mine arms And secretly to greet the empress's friends.

There goes the swallow,-- Could we but follow! Hasty swallow, stay, Point us out the way; Look back swallow, turn back swallow, stop swallow.