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Normale Version: THE AIRMAN
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THE AIRMAN
(Flanders, August. 1917)

IN the mid-heaven, as the gray eagle soars
On tireless pinions, watching with fierce eyes
The sunlit valley which beneath him lies,
The ocean's weltering waste which breaks and roars

Against its hoary cliffs, the stream that pours
Its floods adown the steeps, the light that dies
Upon the purple peaks, the bird that flies
Nestward along the river's reedy shores —

So. high above the battle's thunderous din,
The far-trenched fields, the shattered ranks that flee
From the flushed foe, the flames grown pale and thin

O'er burning homes, he hangs expectantly,
Till suddenly on the quarry he would win
He swoops and strikes for God and Liberty.