Jones Very : The Complete Poems | ||
The Eagles
The eagles gather on the place of deathSo thick the ground is spotted with their wings,
The air is tainted with the noisome breath
The wind from off the field of slaughter brings;
Alas! no mourners weep them for the slain,
But all unburied lies the naked soul;
The whitening bones of thousands strew the plain,
Yet none can now the pestilence controul;
The eagles gathering on the carcase feed,
In every heart behold their half-formed prey;
The battened wills beneath their talons bleed,
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Till by the sun no more the place is seen,
Where they who worshipped idol gods have been.
Poem No. 490; fall 1838–summer 1839
Jones Very : The Complete Poems | ||