So, in the Libyan fable it is told
That once an eagle, stricken with a dart,
Said, read more

So, in the Libyan fable it is told
That once an eagle, stricken with a dart,
Said, when he saw the fashion of the shaft,
"With our own feathers, not by others' hand
Are we now smitten."

He clasps the crag with hooked hands;
Close to the sun in lonely lands,
Ring'd with the read more

He clasps the crag with hooked hands;
Close to the sun in lonely lands,
Ring'd with the azure world, he stands.
The wrinkled sea beneath him crawls:
He watches from his mountain walls,
And like a thunderbolt he falls.

My free drift
Halts not particularly, but moves itself
In a wide sea of wax; no levelled read more

My free drift
Halts not particularly, but moves itself
In a wide sea of wax; no levelled malice
Infects one comma in the course I hold,
But flies an eagle flight, bold and forth on,
Leaving no tract behind.

The eagle suffers little birds to sing,
And is not careful what they mean thereby.

The eagle suffers little birds to sing,
And is not careful what they mean thereby.

And little eagles wave their wings in gold.

And little eagles wave their wings in gold.

That eagle's fate and mine are one,
Which, on the shaft that made him die,
Espied a read more

That eagle's fate and mine are one,
Which, on the shaft that made him die,
Espied a feather of his own,
Wherewith he wont to soar so high.

Around, around in ceaseless circles wheeling
With clangs of wings and scream, the Eagle sailed
Incessantly.

Around, around in ceaseless circles wheeling
With clangs of wings and scream, the Eagle sailed
Incessantly.

Like a young eagle, who has lent his plume
To fledge the shaft by which he meets his doom,
read more

Like a young eagle, who has lent his plume
To fledge the shaft by which he meets his doom,
See their own feathers pluck'd, to wing the dart,
Which rank corruption destines for their heart!

Bird of the broad and sweeping wing,
Thy home is high in heaven,
Where wide the storms read more

Bird of the broad and sweeping wing,
Thy home is high in heaven,
Where wide the storms their banners fling,
And the tempest clouds are driven.