Monday, January 28, 2008

Alfred Lord Tennysons, The Eagle

He clasps the crag with crooked hands;
Close to the sun in lonely lands,
Ring'd with the azure world, he stands.

The wrinkled sea beneath him crawls;
He watches from his mountain walls,
And like a thunderbolt he falls.


Supposedly this is talking about an eagle, I guess he is using figurative language or something. But anyways, I like how this poem sounds.

6 comments:

Chelsea banana said...

that is pretty sarah

Joseph said...

Where were you guys. you missed the only hockey day. We went to the other place and played hockey the whole time. Man sry you missed it.

Cathy said...

They left, they came home. They never made it to Williamstown. They said the ice was bad and clogging up the windshield too badly.

Joseph said...

Awww. thats bothersome. You guys would have had a lot of fun.

zorg said...

ahem, dad said. we were like, 15 minutes from home when the whole precipitation thing stopped. It was majorly annoying to miss, especially since we have not played hockey for three weeks now (including today). But there is always next Tuesday.

Joseph said...

Sry if I rubbed anything in. I just missed you guys again.