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And little eagles wave their wings in gold.
And little eagles wave their wings in gold.
 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. 
 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! 
 Shall eagles not be eagles? wrens be wrens?
 If all the world were falcons, what of that?
  read more 
 Shall eagles not be eagles? wrens be wrens?
 If all the world were falcons, what of that?
  The wonder of the eagle were the less,
   But he not less the eagle. 
 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. 
 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. 
 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. 
 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. 
 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."