Frederick Philip Grove
LEGENDS & OTHER NARRATIVES
(IM 29-31)

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e-Edition by Gaby Divay
© August 2007

University of Manitoba Libraries	FPG & FrL Collections	University of Manitoba Archives

THE EAGLES [43] by Frederick Philip Grove Three eagles soared against a mountain chain, Still surging forward, driven by their being; They flew apace, grasping the air amain, And placed peak after peak behind, unseeing. A check to them was never but a spur: It might retard, it could not stop their going. Flight was their life; their song, a winged whir, Let winds benign, let winds adverse be blowing. Two knew as they were heading for the sun That they were victors; for, the fates defying, They felt that life had barely yet begun: It mattered not though both of them were dying. For with them was a third who forward would Their own flight carry though they might be falling: That third one looked not back; like them it could See but the distance which kept calling, calling. But that one fell. Then were there four wings lame: Two birds alighted, flight and goal forgetting. They that were fierce anon were dull and tame And knew but one thing: That their sun was setting. Never could life be life to them again: A surging forward, driven by their being. For all they flew apace and strove amain, They now sit humped and grope about, unseeing. In Memoriam 29