University of Virginia Library

1.

There was an Eagle built his Nest
Upon a lofty Oak,
Tho not above
Th'avenging Stroke
And Thunder of Almighty Jove;
Of Jove, who sometimes thinks it best,
For Reasons yet unknown,
To let the vilest Men alone,
To ravage all their Neighbours Lands,
And murder Innocents with bloody hands.
So he thought good
To let this mighty ravenous Tyrant of the Wood
Perch on his Boughs secure from Fate,
And all the little winged Mortals eat.

2.

Long there he liv'd, and every day descry'd
From his exalted Boughs,
All the low Underwood beside
Beneath his Shadow grows.
When e'er he saw the Flocks upon the wing,
Or heard in Bushes the plum'd Creatures sing,
His Eaglets he sent out
To seize the Prey,
Who fierce as Lightning flew about:
Swifter than they
No Arrow flies,
Or Star from Azure Skies;
No Tyger in the Forest tears
The trembling Hind with greater rage
To Pieces with his sharpen'd Paws,
Than these the harmless Birds engage,
And home return with bloody Beaks and Claws.

3.

In vain the Birds did build their Nest,
In vain did young ones breed,
When Old and Young were but a Prey at best
To this curs'd Eagle's Seed.
Hopeless of better fate
They pensive sate,
And did the dangers of their Tribes relate.
Till one much wiser than the rest,
To th'harmonious Croud in Notes himself exprest:
‘See, Brethren dear,
‘We who are born as free as Air,
‘Confin'd by nothing but the Sky
‘When we aloft do fly,
‘And when we downwards go
‘By nothing but the mighty Earth below.
‘But vain our Freedoms are,
‘Our native Birthright to the spacious Air,
‘If this Tyrannic Eagle be empower'd
‘By Fate to kill,
‘And make us Captives at his Will;
‘And we are born by him to be devour'd.
‘'Tis true (tho not to our disgrace)
‘We are the weakest of the feather'd Race:
‘The Gods have us no Talons giv'n,
‘Such the Decree of Heaven.
‘We can't contend with mighty Powers,
‘Our business is to sit in Bow'rs,
‘And in our natural Accents sing
‘The Glories of the Spring.
‘We are but Cantons of the Air,
‘Some mighty Emp'rors are;
‘If we with these are in Alliance join'd,
‘The Eagle soon will find
‘Himself o'ermatch'd,
‘And we shall have our Young in safety hatch'd.
‘Therefore let us persuade
‘These Potentates unto our Aid:
‘We'll get Provision from the Wood
‘Their Forces to maintain,
‘Whilst they upon the Plain
‘Do combat for the Common good.

4.

He said, and to his wise Intent
The feather'd Company
Did all agree;
They clapt their Wings, and chirping gave consent.
The Hawks of every kind
In the Alliance join'd,
The Ravens, Crows, and all the Breed
That do on slaughter'd Bodies feed;
Each one who did a Talon wear,
His sharpen'd Weapon did prepare,
He whet his Beak, and hasten'd to the War.
Which when the Eagle understood,
He armed all his Bands,
And to the Field commands
His vet'rane Troops long since inur'd to Blood.
Such Preparations ne'er were known,
Such mighty Actions ne'er were done
By the Inhabitants of the Air,
Or such a bloody War.

5.

For now the fatal Day is come,
Little inferiour to the Day of Doom,
Over a spacious Plain,
On which below
Small Furz and Fern did grow:
Now Death and vast Destruction reign:
Here in the Air
The Combatants begin the War;
Who as they in Battalia fly,
Put out the very Candle of the Sky:
Such sparring Blows they gave, the very Sound
Echo'd from hollow Caverns of the Ground;
At e'ery Stroke
Was some strong Talon broke,
Some Beak was spoil'd,
Or Hawk or Eagle kill'd:
The Feathers fell like Showers of Snow
Upon the Plain below,
The Battel was uncertain, still
They both did one another kill,
Until the Eagles Forces broke,
Retreated to the Fortress of their Oak.

6.

The Eagle thus distrest,
His Warriors spoil'd both in their Beak and Crest,
His Fortunes growing worse and worse,
To Policy he has recourse;
This firm Alliance he must break,
Or else his Oaken Throne must crack.
First from the common Cause
He the fierce Vultur draws,
Which was by Wedding done;
A Young Hen-Vultur of a comely Grace,
The only Princess of the Race,
To a Cock-Grandson-Eagle of his own.
Then with his other Foes he gets a Peace,
And thus all Feuds and Discord cease.
No sooner were his Pinions grown,
And Claws made sharp, but from his Throne
He War proclaims,
And all the little Flocks of Birds he damns,
And all Alliances he scorns,
And a true Tyrant Eagle turns.