Lyra Bicyclica: Sixty Poets on the Wheel

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E. C. Hodges & Company, 1885 - Bicycles - 158 pages
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Page 56 - Those evening bells ! those evening bells ! How many a tale their music tells Of youth, and home, and that sweet time When last I heard their soothing chime. Those joyous hours are passed away ; And many a heart that then was gay, Within the tomb now darkly dwells, And hears no more those evening bells.
Page 59 - Are Erin's sons so good or so cold, " As not to be tempted by woman or gold ? " " Sir Knight ! I feel not the least alarm, " No son of Erin will offer me harm :— " For though they love woman and golden store, " Sir Knight ! they love honour and virtue more...
Page 142 - Allons ! whoever you are come travel with me ! Travelling with me you find what never tires. The earth never tires, The earth is rude, silent, incomprehensible at first, Nature is rude and incomprehensible at first, Be not discouraged, keep on, there are divine things well envelop'd, I swear to you there are divine things more beautiful than words can tell.
Page 11 - By ceaseless action all that is subsists. Constant rotation of the' unwearied wheel That Nature rides upon maintains her health, Her beauty, her fertility. She dreads An instant's pause, and lives but while she moves.
Page 71 - And we run the same course that our fathers have run. The thoughts we are thinking our fathers would think ; From the death we are shrinking...
Page 51 - And the angel Israfel, whose heartstrings are a lute, and who has the sweetest voice of all God's creatures. — Koran. In Heaven a spirit doth dwell "Whose heart-strings are a lute;" None sing so wildly well As the angel Israfel, And the giddy stars (so legends tell) Ceasing their hymns, attend the spell Of his voice, all mute. Tottering above In her highest noon, The...
Page 17 - Long I followed happy guides, I could never reach their sides; Their step is forth, and, ere the day Breaks up their leaguer, and away. Keen my sense, my heart was young, Right good-will my sinews strung, But no speed of mine avails To hunt upon their shining trails. On and away, their hasting feet Make the morning proud and sweet; Flowers they strew, — I catch the scent; Or tone of silver instrument Leaves on the wind melodious trace; Yet I could never see their face.
Page 146 - I find I incorporate gneiss, coal, long-threaded moss, fruits, grains, esculent roots, And am stucco'd with quadrupeds and birds all over, And have distanced what is behind me for good reasons, But call any thing back again when I desire it.
Page 148 - ... supreme power, one of an average unending procession, We walk the roads of Ohio and Massachusetts and Virginia and Wisconsin and New York and New Orleans and Texas and Montreal and San Francisco and Charleston and Savannah and Mexico, Inland and by the seacoast and boundary lines .... and we pass the boundary lines. Our swift ordinances are on their way over the whole earth, The blossoms we wear in our hats are the growth of two thousand years.
Page 147 - O to speed where there is space enough and air enough at last! To be absolv'd from previous ties and conventions, I from mine and you from yours! To find a new unthought-of nonchalance with the best of Nature! To have the gag remov'd from one's mouth! To have the feeling to-day or any day I am sufficient as I am.

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