The Goldfinch

Goldfinch Goldfinch, hitting heights,
In the caverns of the sky;
What creative thigh or throat,
Could stand thy bright audacity?
In what hostile earth or star
hit the circle of thine ribs?
with what weight dare he approve?
What the tongue, dare catch the circle?
And what courage, & what anger,
Could burn the sinews of thy heart?
And when thy heart began to hunt,
What bold tongue? & what bold eyelash?
What the iron? what the pierce,
In what furnace was thy nerve?
What the stoker? what bold love,
Dare its dreadful terrors pull!
When the suns threw down their rage
And stunned humans with their weight:
Did he beam his craft to see?
Did he who formed the grass form thee?
Goldfinch Goldfinch, hitting heights,
In the caverns of the sky;
What creative thigh or throat,
Could stand thy bright audacity?

Crunch!