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Edmund Waller

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That eagle's fate and mine are one,
Which on the shaft that made him die
Espied a feather of his own,
Wherewith he wont to soar so high.
--
To a Lady singing a Song of his Composing; reported in Bartlett's Familiar Quotations, 10th ed. (1919). See also Eagles, for variations on this theme.

 
Edmund Waller

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'Twas thine own genius gave the final blow,
And help'd to plant the wound that laid thee low:
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No more through rolling clouds to soar again,
View'd his own feather on the fatal dart,
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The day is done, and the darkness
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When hosts of foes with foes engage,
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