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E.e. cummings - The Eagle
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It was one of those clear,sharp, mustless days 
        That summer and man delight in. 
Never had Heaven seemed quite so high, 
Never had earth seemed quite so green, 
Never had the world seemed quite so clean 
Or sky so nigh. 
        And I heard the Deity`s voice in 
            The sun`s warm rays, 
        And the white cloud`s intricate maze, 
And the blue sky`s beautiful sheen. 

                   

I looked to the heavens and saw him there,— 
        A black speck downward drifting, 
Nearer and nearer he steadily sailed, 
Nearer and nearer he slid through space, 
In an unending aerial race, 
       This sailor who hailed 
       From the Clime of the Clouds.—Ever shifting, 
            On billows of air 
        And the blue sky seemed never so fair, 
And the rest of the world kept pace. 

                  

On the white of his head the sun flashed bright; 
        And he battled the wind with wide pinions, 
Clearer and clearer the gale whistled loud, 
Clearer and clearer he came into view,— 
Bigger and blacker against the blue. 
        Then a dragon of cloud 
        Gathering all its minions 
            Rushed to the fight, 
        And swallowed him up in a bite; 
And the sky lay empty clear through.

                   

Long I watched.   And at last afar 
        Caught sight of a speck in the vastness; 
Ever smaller,ever decreasing, 
Ever drifting,drifting awayInto the endless realms of day; 
        Finally ceasing. 
        So into Heaven`s vast fastness 
           Vanished that bar 
Of black,as a fluttering star 
Goes out while still on its way.

                     

So I lost him.   But I shall always see 
            In my mind 
The warm,yellow sun,and the ether free; 
The vista`s sky,and the white cloud trailing, 
        Trailing behind,— 
And below the young earth`s summer-green arbors, 
And on high the eagle,—sailing,sailing 
        Into far skies and unknown harbors
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