And last he sees the full-grown son
For whom he hoards what he has won.
You saw little worth the strife:
What he sees is one man’s life.
William Rose Benét
THE FALCONER OF GOD
I flung my soul to the air like a falcon flying.
I said, “Wait on, wait on, while I ride below!
I shall start a heron soon
In the marsh beneath the moon—