Shall eagles not be eagles? wrens be wrens?
If all the world were falcons, what of that?
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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.

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.

For wheresoever the carcase is, there will the eagles be gathered
together.

For wheresoever the carcase is, there will the eagles be gathered
together.

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.

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.

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

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.

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.

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.