Going Down Hill On A Bicycle

GOING DOWN HILL ON A BICYCLE
A Boy’s Song
By H. C. Beeching

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.

R.
Is this, is this your joy?
O bird, then I, though a boy,
For a golden moment share
Your feathery life on 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.

R.
Speed slackens, I float
Awhile in my airy boat;
Till, when the wheels scars crawl,
My feet to the treadles fall.

Alas, that the longest hill
Must end in a vale but still
Who climbs with toil, wheresoe’er,
Shall find wings waiting there.