To A Taube - Poem by Jessie Pope
Above the valley, rich and fair,
On flashing pinions, glittering, gay,
You hover in the upper air,
A bird of prey.
Snarling across the empty blue
You curve and skim, you dip and soar,
A dove in flight and shape and hue
The dove of war.
Above the soldier and the slain,
An armoured bird, you hang on high,
Directed by a human brain,
A human eye.
A thirsty hunter out for blood
Drinking adventure to the dregs
Where hidden camps the country stud
You drop your eggs.
Thus, man, who reasons and invents,
Has inconsistently designed
The conquest of the elements
To kill his kind.
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