Not-Friday Poetry Blogging: Alfred, Lord Tennyson

I'm late with the poetry this week, but this one's very nice indeed, so I hope that makes up for my tardiness.

Some of you probably the title of this poem, but I'm withholding it for the moment, because one of the reasons I especially like this poem is for the qualities it shares with Old English riddles: short, cryptic, evocative. If you want to try guessing the title, make sure not to look below the poem's last line before you have your answer ready.

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He clasps the crag with crooked hands;
Close to the sun in azure lands,
Ringed with the azure world, he stands.

The wrinkled sea beneath him crawls;
He watches from his mountain walls,
And like a thunderbolt he falls.







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The poem's title is "The Eagle"