Verse > Anthologies > Harriet Monroe, ed. > Poetry: A Magazine of Verse, 1912–22
Harriet Monroe, ed. (1860–1936).  Poetry: A Magazine of Verse.  1912–22.
The Eagle’s Song
By Mary Austin
From “High Places”

Said the Eagle:

WHEN my time came
I was astonished
To find that there was death;
I felt cold sinking within me.
Alas, my home—        5
Shall I leave it?
All-beholding mountains,
From your snowy stations
Shall I see my house no more?
North I went,        10
Leaning on the wind:
Through the forest resounded
The cry of the wounded doe.
East I went,
Seeking        15
Where the white-hot dawn
Treads on the trail of morning blueness:
The wind brought me
The smell of death in my nostrils.
South I went,        20
For the place where there is no death:
I heard singing,
The sound of wailing for the dead.
West I went,        25
On the world-encompassing water:
Death’s trail was before me.
People, O people,
It must be that we shall leave this pleasant earth.
Therefore let us make songs together,        30
Let us make a twine of songs.
With them we shall bind the Spirit
Fast to the middle heaven—
There at least it shall roam no more.
The white way of souls,        35
There shall be our home.

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