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Leaves of Grass (1881-82)
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THE DALLIANCE OF THE EAGLES.
SKIRTING the river road, (my forenoon walk, my rest,) |
Skyward in air a sudden muffled sound, the dalliance of the eagles, |
The rushing amorous contact high in space together, |
The clinching interlocking claws, a living, fierce, gyrating wheel, |
Four beating wings, two beaks, a swirling mass tight grappling, |
In tumbling turning clustering loops, straight downward falling, |
Till o'er the river pois'd, the twain yet one, a moment's lull, |
A motionless still balance in the air, then parting, talons loosing, |
Upward again on slow-firm pinions slanting, their separate diverse
flight,
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She hers, he his, pursuing. |
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