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."

The bird of Jove, stoop'd from his aery tour,
Two birds of gayest plume before him drove.

The bird of Jove, stoop'd from his aery tour,
Two birds of gayest plume before him drove.

The eagle suffers little birds to sing,
And is not careful what they mean thereby,
Knowing that read more

The eagle suffers little birds to sing,
And is not careful what they mean thereby,
Knowing that with the shadow of his wings
He can at pleasure stint their melody:
Even so mayest thou the giddy men of Rome.

King of the peak and glacier,
King of the cold, white scalps,
He lifts his head at read more

King of the peak and glacier,
King of the cold, white scalps,
He lifts his head at that close tread,
The eagle of the Alps.

So the struck eagle, stretched upon the plain,
No more through rolling clouds to soar again,
Viewed read more

So the struck eagle, stretched upon the plain,
No more through rolling clouds to soar again,
Viewed his own feather on the fatal dart,
And wing'd the shaft that quivered in his heart.

Last night the very gods showed me a vision--
I fast and prayed for their intelligence--thus:
I read more

Last night the very gods showed me a vision--
I fast and prayed for their intelligence--thus:
I saw Jove's bird, the Roman eagle, winged
From the spongy south to this part of the west,
There vanished in the sunbeams; which portends,
Unless my sins abuse my divination,
Success to th' Roman host.

Tho' he inherit
Not the pride, nor ample pinion,
That the Theban eagle bear,
read more

Tho' he inherit
Not the pride, nor ample pinion,
That the Theban eagle bear,
Sailing with supreme dominion
Thro' the azure deep of air.

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.

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.