Poem written by Robinson Jeffers, while attending at age sixteen, Occidental College, Pasadena CA was published in the June 1904 in The Youth’s Companion. He received $12 for his poem,
My head is bald with cleaving heaven,
And rough my feathers with the grip
Of clashing winds and clouds wind-driven.
But what of that? My winds can dare
All loneliest hanging heights of air;
Above the jagged mountain-lip
Their solemn slant and downward dip
Greet the red sun each morn and even.
The storm knows well their broad expanse,
For they can breast its pulsing power
When even the steadfast planets dance
Dizzily thro’ the riotous rack
Of ruined, tattered clouds that scour
O’er heaven. On the tempest’s back
I clasp my wings, and like a horse
I rein it, mastering its force.
Then, tiring of the sport, I stretch
Upward above its region, far
As if I strove to climb and fetch
The utmost little silver star.
Then I lean low with a flat wing
Upon the lucid air, and swing
Amid the regions of pure peace.
I reck not of the earth below,
But swing, and soar, and never cease,
In circles large and full and slow,
With such a movement, such a grace
That I forget my ugliness.
 “Robinson Jeffers – The Early Years” May 15, 2013 written in ‘Adventures of a Home Town Tourist’ https://carmelbytheseaca.blogspot.com/2013/05/robinson-jeffers-early-years.html