Uncle, whose inventive brains
Kept evolving aeroplanes,
Fell from an enormous height
Upon my garden lawn last night.
Flying is a fatal sport:
Uncle wrecked the tennis court. — Harry Graham (1874-1936)
Pteric means “of or like a wing”; ptosis meant “fall, falling” in ancient Greek and is now used in medicine to mean “drooping of the eyelid; sagging or lowering of an organ”, etc.
A little-known Housman poem that should be better-known:
Breathe, my lute, beneath my fingers
One regretful breath,
One lament for life that lingers
Round the doors of death.
For the frost has killed the rose,
And our summer dies in snows,
And our morning once for all
Gathers to the evenfall.
Hush, my lute, return to sleeping,
Sing no songs again.
For the reaper stays his reaping
On the darkened plain;
And the day has drained its cup,
And the twilight cometh up;
Song and sorrow all that are
Slumber at the even-star.
A.E. Housman (1859-1936) — see also Breathe, my lute at Wikilivres.
In Ictu Oculi (In the Blink of an Eye) by Juan de Valdés Leal (c. 1671).