The Eagle
The EagleHe clasps the crag with crooked hands;
Close to the sun in lonely lands,
Ring'd 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
posted by Sriharsha Salagrama @ 2:12 AM
1 Comments:
Excellent poem
-Meenu
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