Classic Poem

The Falcon is a noble bird,
And when his heart of hearts is stirred,
He'll seek the eagle, though he run
Into his chamber near the sun.
Never was there brute or bird,
Whom the woods or mountains heard,
That could force a fear or care
From him, — the Arab of the air!

To-day he sits upon a wrist,
Whose purple veins a queen has kissed,
And on him falls a sterner eye
Than he can face where'er he fly,
Though he scale the summit cold
Of the Grimsel, vast and old, —
Though he search yon sunless stream,
That threads the forest like a dream.

Ah, noble Soldier! noble Bird!
Will your names be ever heard, —
Ever seen in future story,
Crowning it with deathless glory?
Peace, ho! — the master's eye is drawn
Away unto the bursting dawn!
Arise, thou bird of birds, arise,
And seek thy quarry in the skies!