Great Eagle, fold your wings awhile
And turn away your eyes;
In smoke and thunder, flame and blood
Your Best and Highest dies;
And all His happy Land,
His great emprise,
A shattered wreck of ugly ruin lies.
Great Eagle, flee a little while
To some far lonely height.
There shall you watch and wait . . .
Your land is sunk in night:
All, all those cities bright
In ruins far and wide torment the night.
Oh Eagle, did you hear that shout,
That thundered triple roar?
Its clamourous echoes smote the earth
And rolled from shore to shore;
And all the glorious Dead,
Who fealty swore,
Received Him home; His earthly flight is o’er.
His fight, that made the nations shake,
And hearts and pulses leap,
Is over now. He rests. But we
Are sunk in anguish deep.
He rests,—at last. No dreams
Torture His sleep,
While grave-eyed Angel-guards their watches keep.
Great Eagle, that He worked to save,
And fought to guard,—and died,
Flee from this piteous German wreck,
In some far corner hide,
Until the Land is free
And far and wide,
Throughout the world His name is glorified!
Meanwhile, we hold the heights He won,
And keep His torch aflame;
No slothful ease for us who bear
The honour of His name.
To do His work we count
Higher than fame,
Indifferent to earthly praise or blame.
Savitri Devi, writing as Clara Sharland
From: Savitri Devi, Forever and Ever: Devotional Poems, ed. R. G. Fowler (San Francisco: Counter-Currents, 2012)
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America First: 1939–1941
Michael Kellogg’s The Russian Roots of Nazism
Remembering Rudyard Kipling (December 30, 1865-January 18, 1936)
August Kubizek’s The Young Hitler I Knew
The Lightning & the Sun