Once again - keep strong Jason - have this ...
GOING DOWN HILL ON A BICYCLE
Henry Charles Beeching (1859-1919)
With lifted feet, hands still, I am poised, and down the hill Dart, with heedful mind, The air goes by in a wind
Swifter and yet more swift, Till the heart with a mighty lift Makes the lungs laugh, the throat cry:- "O bird, see; see, bird, I fly"
"Is this, is this your joy? O bird, then I, though a boy, For a golden moment share Your feathery life in air!"
Say, heart, is there aught like this In a world that is full of bliss? Tis more than skating, bound Steel shod to the level ground
Speed slackens now, I float Awhile in my airy boat Till, when the wheels scarce crawl, My feet to the treadles fall
Alas, that the longest hill Must end in a vale; but still, Who climbs with toil, whereso'er, Shall find wings waiting there.
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Once again - keep strong Jason - have this ...
GOING DOWN HILL ON A BICYCLE
Henry Charles Beeching (1859-1919)
With lifted feet, hands still,
I am poised, and down the hill
Dart, with heedful mind,
The air goes by in a wind
Swifter and yet more swift,
Till the heart with a mighty lift
Makes the lungs laugh, the throat cry:-
"O bird, see; see, bird, I fly"
"Is this, is this your joy?
O bird, then I, though a boy,
For a golden moment share
Your feathery life in air!"
Say, heart, is there aught like this
In a world that is full of bliss?
Tis more than skating, bound
Steel shod to the level ground
Speed slackens now, I float
Awhile in my airy boat
Till, when the wheels scarce crawl,
My feet to the treadles fall
Alas, that the longest hill
Must end in a vale; but still,
Who climbs with toil, whereso'er,
Shall find wings waiting there.