THE EAGLE





Alfred Tennyson





He clasps the crag with crooked hands;

Close to the sun in lonely lands,

Ringed with the azure world, he stands.



The wrinkled sea beneath him crawls;

He watches from his mountain walls,

And like a thunderbolt he falls.





THE DRUMMER OF THE WOODS THE ELVES facebooktwittergoogle_plusredditpinterestlinkedinmail

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