Eagles

IT rose, and swam into the sky—The man-made bird;And the great Eagle saw it fly—Saw it, and heardThe whirring of its plumeless wings,—The bird that mounts and soars, but never sings!

The falcon-eyes that face the sunBlinked on the flightOf the dread creature that had wonThe unwelcome rightTo leave its native earth, and dareIntrude upon the monarch of the Air!

As moved the monoplane, the man,Strange soul of it,Sailing the sea cerulean,The whole of itSeemed his; ay, subject to his sway.Then he beheld—an Eagle in his way!

Awed, each upon the other gazedA moment's space,When sudden-swooping talons grazedThe pale man face,As the fierce earn, there, mid the skiesStruck with blind fury at his rival's eyes.

Up-fluttering, the feathered kingPlunged down again.His rushing anger seemed to bringFate nearer; thenThe man-bird knew the moment's strifeNot for supremacy alone, but life!

With nerve that grows in peril great,He toward him drewA thing to strengthen him with Fate,Whence instant flewA wingèd death, and far behindHeadlong the Eagle fell, the abyss to find.

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Thy fight was over, glorious bird!—Thy scornful strengthWhich the sky's sovereignty conferred,Subdued at length,—An autumn leaf against the wind,In conflict with a greater power—called Mind!