He will watch the hawk with an indifferent eye Or pitifully; Nor on those eagles that so feared him, now Will strain his brow; Weapons men use, stone, sling and strong-thewed bow He will not know. This artistocrat, superb of all instinct, With death close-linked Had paced the enormous cloud, almost had won War on the sun; Till now, like Icarus mid-ocean-drowned, Hands, wings, are found. | Discover our Poem Explanations and Poet Analyses!Other Poems of Interest...UPON BEN JONSON [JOHNSON] by ROBERT HERRICK THE RUBAIYAT, 1879 EDITION: 14 by OMAR KHAYYAM BARBARA FRIETCHIE [SEPTEMBER 13, 1862] by JOHN GREENLEAF WHITTIER A VISION OF CHILDREN by THOMAS ASHE FECUNDI CALICES by BACCHYLIDES LORD FINCHLEY by HILAIRE BELLOC NATALIA'S RESURRECTION: 1 by WILFRID SCAWEN BLUNT THE STRING AROUND MY FINGER by JOHN GARDINER CALKINS BRAINARD |