Verse > Anthologies > Hunt and Lee, eds. > The Book of the Sonnet
Hunt and Lee, comps.  The Book of the Sonnet.  1867.
V. On Startling Some Pigeons
By Charles Tennyson (1808–1879)
A HUNDRED wings are dropped as soft as one,
  Now ye are lighted; lovely to my sight
  The fearful circle of your gentle flight,
  Rapid and mute, and drawing homeward soon;
And then, the sober chiding of your tone        5
  (As there ye sit, from your own roofs arraigning
  My trespass on your haunts, so boldly done)
  Sounds like a solemn and a just complaining!
O happy, happy race! for though there clings
  A feeble fear about your timid clan,        10
  Yet are ye blest! with not a thought that brings
Disquietude; while proud and sorrowing man,
  An eagle, weary of his mighty wings,
  With anxious inquest fills his little span.

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