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<div style="background:#fff;border:#bbb dashed 1px;padding:5px"><a href="http://en.citatepedia.ro/comments.php?id=341845" style="color:#000;text-decoration:none"><div style="margin:10px 0"><strong>The Island Hawk</strong></div><div style="margin:10px 0">Hushed are the whimpering winds on the hill,<br>Dumb is the shrinking plain,<br>And the songs that enchanted the woods are still<br>As I shoot to the skies again!<br>Does the blood grow black on my fierce bent beak,<br>Does the down still cling to my claw?<br>Who brightened these eyes for the prey they seek?<br>Life, I follow thy law!<br>For I am the hawk, the hawk, the hawk!<br>Who knoweth my pitiless breast?<br>Who watcheth me sway in the wild wind's way?<br>Flee – flee – for I quest, I quest.</div><div style="margin:10px 0">As I glide and glide with my peering head,<br>Or swerve at a puff of smoke,<br>Who watcheth my wings on the wind outspread,<br>Here – gone – with an instant stroke?<br>Who toucheth the glory of life I feel<br>As I buffet this great glad gale,<br>Spire and spire to the cloud-world, wheel,<br>Loosen my wings and sail?<br>For I am the hawk, the island hawk,<br>Who knoweth my pitiless breast?<br>Who watcheth me sway in the sun's bright way?<br>Flee – flee – for I quest, I quest.</div><div style="margin:10px 0">My mate in the nest on the high bright tree<br>Blazing with dawn and dew,<br>She knoweth the gleam of the world and the glee<br>As I drop like a bolt from the blue.<br>She knoweth the fire of the level flight<br>As I skim, close, close to the ground,<br>With the long grass lashing my breast and the bright<br>Dew-drops flashing around.<br>She watcheth the hawk, the hawk, the hawk<br>(Oh, the red-blotched eggs in the nest!)<br>Watcheth him sway in the sun's bright way.<br>Flee – flee – for I quest, I quest.</div><div style="margin:10px 0">She builded her nest on the high bright wold,<br>She was taught in a world afar<br>The lore that is only an April old<br>Yet old as the evening star.<br>Life of a far off ancient day<br>In an hour unhooded her eyes.<br>In the time of the budding of one green spray<br>She was wise as the stars are wise.<br>An eyas in eyry, a yellow-eyed hawk,<br>On the old elm's burgeoning breast,<br>She watcheth me sway in the wild wind's way.<br>Flee – flee – for I quest, I quest.</div><div style="margin:10px 0">She hath ridden on white Arabian steeds<br>Thro' the ringing English dells,<br>For the joy of a great queen, hunting in state,<br>To the music of golden bells.<br>A queen's fair fingers have drawn the hood<br>And tossed her aloft in the blue,<br>A white hand eager for needless blood.<br>I hunt for the needs of two.<br>A haggard in yarak, a hawk, a hawk!<br>Who knoweth my pitiless breast?<br>Who watcheth me sway in the sun's bright way?<br>Flee – flee – for I quest, I quest.</div><div style="margin:10px 0">Who fashioned her wide and splendid eyes<br>That have stared in the eyes of kings?<br>With a silken twist she was looped to their wrist:<br>She has clawed at their jewelled rings!<br>Who flung her first thro' the crimson dawn<br>To pluck him a prey from the skies,<br>When the love-light shone upon lake and lawn<br>In the valleys of Paradise?<br>Who fashioned the hawk, the hawk, the hawk,<br>Bent beak and pitiless breast?<br>Who watcheth him sway in the wild wind's way?<br>Flee – flee – for I quest, I quest.</div><div style="margin:10px 0">Is there ever a song in all the world<br>Shall say how the quest began<br>With the beak and the wings that have made us kings<br>And cruel – almost – as man?<br>The wild wind whimpers across the heath<br>Where the sad little tufts of blue<br>And the red-stained grey little feathers of death<br>Flutter! Who fashioned us? Who?<br>Who fashioned the scimitar wings of the hawk,<br>Bent beak and arrowy breast?<br>Who watcheth him sway in the sun's bright way?<br>Flee – flee – for I quest, I quest.</div><div style="margin:10px 0"><br /></a><br />poem by <a href="http://en.citatepedia.ro/by.php?a=Alfred+Noyes">Alfred Noyes</a><div class=q>
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<script type="text/javascript" src="//s7.addthis.com/js/300/addthis_widget.js#pubid=citatepedia" async="async"></script><div style="display:inline-block" class="addthis_sharing_toolbox" data-url="http://en.citatepedia.ro/comments.php?id=341845" data-title="The Island Hawk de Alfred Noyes" data-description="Hushed are the whimpering winds on the hill,
Dumb is the shrinking plain,
And the songs that enchanted the woods are still
As I shoot to the skies again!
Does the blood grow black on my fierce bent beak,
Does the down still cling to my claw?
Who b..."></div>
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