The fish with silver scales

Will plunge, his torn mouth streaming blood,

And lash his life out, till he floats

Dead in the shallow mud.

The wounded deer will drag

Her shattered leg behind a stone,

Not to die, but wait for death,

In agony, alone.

The way the eagles die,

Struck with an arrow, shot down flying,

Clean and quickly, is the way

I choose of dying.