The Eagle's Death

Above the sempiternal snow aspires
The vast-winged eagle still to loftier air,
That nearer to the sun, in blue more fair,
He may refresh his sight's undaunted ires.

He rises. Sparks in torrents he inspires.
Still up, in proud, calm flight, he glories where
The tempest draws fell lightnings to its lair;
Whereat his wings are smit by their fierce fires.

With scream, and in the storm-cloud whirling, he,
Sublimely tasting the flame's withering kiss,
Deep plunges to the fulgurant abyss.

Blest he who, thrilled by Fame or Liberty,
In strength's full pride and dream's enrapturing bliss
Dies such heroic, dazzling death as this.