And as the sound upon the cithern’s neck Taketh its form, and as upon the vent Of rustic pipe the wind that enters it, Even thus, relieved from the delay of waiting, That murmuring of the eagle mounted up Along its neck, as if it had been hollow. There it became a voice, and issued thence From out its beak, in such a form of words As the heart waited for wherein I wrote them. “The part in me which sees and bears the sun In mortal eagles,” it began to me, “Now fixedly must needs be looked upon; For of the fires of which I make my figure, Those whence the eye doth sparkle in my head Of all their orders the supremest are. He who is shining in the midst as pupil 1749 Was once the singer of the Holy Spirit, Who bore the ark from city unto city; Now knoweth he the merit of his song, In so far as effect of his own counsel, 1750 By the reward which is commensurate. Of five, that make a circle for my brow,