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!

Source: She Wields a Pen: American Women Poets of the Nineteenth Century (University of Iowa Press, 1997)