Chapter LXX

There cometh a winged form!
What meanest thou, so high?
His wing was wet from a lower storm,
And he wafted, slowly by,
For his was a spirit warm,
And his was a quenchless eye!
And I knew ’twas the eagle—untameable bird!
For he came with the earth’s perfumes;
And a mountain scent, wherever he stirr’d,
He shook from his glittering plumes.