Джордж Стерлинг (George Sterling)

The Aeroplane

AFAR and high, on wings that feared no wind,
    The intrepid dragon of espial flew,
    Unseen at last within the housing blue,
And o'er dim provinces at last inclined,
Stared from the pinnacles of noon to find
    The plan and purpose of the war's review—
    What counsels launched, what jeopardies withdrew.
The groping armies, ominous and blind.

Then homed the watcher to its armored nest,
    Down the cold dome immense and desolate,
        Where clouds beleaguer and the sunlight chills—
Death's herald, bearing to the anxious west
    The secret of the captains, and the fate
        Of legions hidden in the deadly hills.

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