A mountain climber wrote of seeing an eagle's nest on a ledge of rock, cut off from all exit except the steep vast precipice below. He watched with intense emotion the parent eagles break up the nest, shaking the little eaglets out. The father eagle kept flying just outside the ledge of rock as one by one were shaken into space. All but the last one at once began to fly, but it seemed afraid and clung to the nest. At last the mother, as if impatient, pushed the little one over to what seemed certain destruction. But the father eagle, waiting, swooped down and caught the little eaglet in his wing!
The mother eagle wrecks the nest
To make her fledglings fly,
But watches each with wings outstretched And fierce maternal eye,
And swoops if any fail to soar
And lands them on the crag once more.
God at times breaks up our nest
Lest ruled by fear or ease.
Our soul's wings molt and lose the, zest For battle with the breeze;
But waits with arms of love and skill
To bear our souls above all ill.