Friday, February 19, 2010

The Eagle: A Fragment


He clasps the crag with crooked hands;
Close to the sun in lonely lands,

Ringed with the azure world, he stands.

The wrinkled sea beneath him crawls:
He watches from his mountain walls,
And like a thunderbolt he falls.

-Alfred, Lord Tennyson

2 comments:

  1. I used to recite this poem to myself when I was a kid.

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