. . . I went the other day <br />To see the birds and beasts they keep enmewed <br />In the London Zoo. One of the first I saw — <br />One of the first I noticed, was an Eagle, <br />Ragged, befouled, within his iron bars <br />He sat without a movement or a sound, <br />And, when I stood and pitying looked at him, <br />I saw his great sad eyes that winkless gazed <br />Out to the horizon sky. I passed from there, <br />And walked about the gardens hither and thither, <br />Till all the afternoon was spent. Returning then <br />To seek my home, again by chance I passed <br />The Eagle's cage, and stood again and looked, <br />And saw his great sad eyes that winkless gazed <br />Out to the horizon sky. So I went home. . . . <br />The Eagle is Ireland.<br /><br />Francis William Lauderdale Adams<br /><br />http://www.poemhunter.com/poem/the-caged-eagle-2/
