The Sun-Struck Eagle

I saw an eagle sweep to the sky— The Godlike! – seeking his place on high, With a strong, and wild, and rapid wing— A dark, and yet a dazzling thing; And his arching neck, his bristling crest, And the dark plumes quivering upon his breast; And his eye, bent up to each beam of light, Like a bright sword flash’d with a sword in fight. I saw him rise o’er the forest trees; I saw his pinion ride the breeze; Beyond the clouds I watched him tower On his path of pride – his flight of power. I watched him wheeling, stern and lone, Where the keenest ray of the sun was thrown; Soaring, circling – bathed in light: Such was that desert eagle’s flight. Suddenly, then, to my straining eye, I saw the strong wing slack on high; Falling, falling to earth once more; The dark breast covered with foam and gore; The dark eyes’ glory dim with pain; Sick to death with a sun-struck brain! Reeling down from that height divine, Eagle of heaven! such fall was thine! Even so we see the sons of light, Up to the day-beam steer their flight; And the wing of genius cleaves the sky, As the clouds rush on when the winds are high: Then comes the hour of sudden dread— Then is the blasting sunlight shed; And the gifted fall in their agony, Sund-struck eagle! to die like thee!