Page:Prometheus Bound, and other poems.djvu/112

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If I were thou, O eagle proud,

And screamed the thunder back aloud,

And faced the lightning from the cloud;

I would not build my eyrie-throne,

As thou,—upon a crumbling stone,

Which the next storm may trample down.

If I were thou, O gallant steed,

With pawing hoof, and dancing head,

And eye outrunning thine own speed;

I would not meeken to the rein,

As thou,—nor smooth my nostril plain

From the glad desert's snort and strain.

If I were thou, red-breasted bird,

Whose song's at shut up window heard,

Like Love's sweet Yes too long deferred;

I would not overstay delight,

As thou,—but take a swallow-flight,

Till the new spring returned to sight.