by W. B. Yeats

    A sudden blow： the great wings beating still

    Above the staggering girl， her thighs caressed

    By the dark webs， her nape caught in his bill，

    He holds her helpless breast upon his breast.

    How can those terrified vague fingers push

    The feathered glory from her loosening thighs？

    And how can body， laid in that white rush，

    But feel the strange heart beating where it lies？

    A shudder in the loins engenders there

    The broken wall， the burning roof and tower

    And Agamemnon dead.

    Being so caught up，So mastered by the brute blood of the air，

    Did she put on his knowledge with his power

    Before the indifferent beak could let her drop？