A hawk—a hawk in chase above!
Oh fast! fly fast, my little dove!
A hawk!—a hawk! I’ve come again
To breathe the atmosphere of men,
For ever and aye, in the world ’twas so,
Where a dove was flying, a hawk would go!
LXXIII.
Nearer to earth, it seem’d no more,
That beautiful, glorious, fairy shore;
Already, so many a mile in air,