He spied the finny tribes below, Amid the limpid brine; And felt it now was time to know Whereon he was to dine. He saw a noble, shining fish So near the surface swim, He felt at once a hungry wish To make a feast of him. Then straight he took his downward course; A sudden plunge he gave; And pouncing, seized, with murderous force, His tempter in the wave. He struck his talons firm and deep, Within the slippery prize, In hope his ruffian grasp to keep; And high and dry to rise. But ah! it was a fatal stoop, As ever monarch made; And, for that rash--that cruel swoop, He soon most dearly paid! The fish had too much gravity To yield to this attack. His feet the eagle could not free From off the scaly back. He 'd seized on one too strong and great; His mastery now was gone! And on, by that prepondering weight, And downward, he was drawn. Nor found he here the element Where he could move with grace; And flap, and dash, his pinions went, In ocean's wrinkled face. They could not bring his talons out, His forfeit life to save; And planted thus, he writhed about Upon his gaping grave. He raised his head, and gave a shriek, To bid adieu to light: The water bubbled in his beak-- He sank from human sight! The children of the sea came round, The foreigner to view. To see an airy monarch drowned, To them was something new! Some gave a quick, astonished look, And darted swift away; While some his parting plumage shook, And nibbled him for prey. O! who that saw that bird at noon So high and proudly soar, Could think how awkwardly--how soon, He 'd fall to rise no more? Though glory, majesty, and pride Were his an hour ago, Deprived of all, that eagle died, For stooping once too low! Now, have you ever known or heard Of biped, from his sphere Descending, like that silly bird, To buy a fish so dear? THE CAGED LION. Lion, like a captive king, Sad behind thy prison grate, Monarch, how I long to bring Back to thee thy lost estate! Where thy royal kindred live-- Where thy native sky is warm, Sufferer, how I long to give Freedom to that noble form! Gladly would I know thee there, Bounding over Afric's plain, Wildly, with the desert air Wafting wide thy flowing mane.