So the struck eagle, stretchd upon the plain, No more through rolling clouds to soar again, Viewd his own feather on the fatal dart, And wingd the shaft that quiverd in his heart. – Lord (George Gordon) Byron
And inasmuch as the bridge is a symbol of all such poetry as I am interested in writing it is my present fancy that a year from now Ill be more contented working in an office than ever before. – Hart Crane
