An Anthology of Modern Bohemian Poetry/The Eagles of Discontent
THE EAGLES OF DISCONTENT
The Eagles would higher and higher rise,
E'en where the heart would have flown—
To the rugged crag beyond thine eyes,
Where one may perish alone.
And upon my Eagles there came dismay:
To the sun is a distant flight,
And farther at autumn-tide is the way,
Treacherous is the height.
In the depths of the waters the Eagles wept,
With their dreaming all fordone:
"We to the highest summit have swept,
Why might we not reach the sun?"
"Bold Ventures" (1906).