Upon the black brow of a cliff where no life ever stirred
Alighted strong, hoary-winged eagles, grave bird upon
⁠bird.

They whetted their claws on the stones, sitting massive
⁠and grum,
And loudly they called on their lately-fledged comrades
⁠to come.

Slow-measured and heavy the beat of their wings on the
⁠skies,
Assuageless the rage that tempestuous burned in their eyes.

And each newly-come they acclaimed with the pride of the
⁠peer:
"Hail, comrade! Delay not! The days we have longed
⁠for are near."