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The Eagle

by Timothy Otis Paine

How the eagle does: —
Gathering up his might,
Quitting where he was,
Soars he in the height.
But his aerie home
Is not always grand:
Now on mountain dome,
Now in lowly land.
In a rugged wold,
Be it but apart,
He shall build his hold,
Take his mighty start.
Where he makes his bed,
Where he piles his lair,
Turns his noble head,
'Tis the king that's there.
Where he heaps his nest,
Where he lies in state,
Where he takes his rest,
There the place is great.

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