Proclaiming their's the baser part
Who consciously forswear
The delicate and gentle art
Of never getting there?
To get there first!—'tis time to ring
The knell of such an aim;
To be the swiftest!—riches bring
So easily that fame.
To shine, a highway meteor,
Devourer of the map!—
A vulgar bliss to choose before
Repose in Nature's lap!
Consider too how small a thing
The highest speed you gain:
A bee can frolic on the wing
Around the fastest train.
Think of the swallow in the air,
The salmon in the stream,
And cease to boast the records rare
Of paraffin and steam.
Most, most of all when comes the Spring,
Again to lay (as now)
Her hand benign and quickening
On meadow, hill and bough,
Should speed's enchantment lose its power,
For "None who would exceed
[The Mother speaks] a mile an hour,
My heart aright can read."
The turnpike from the car to fling,
As from a yacht the sea,
Is doubtless as inspiriting
As aught on land can be;
I grant the glory, the romance,
But look behind the veil—
Suppose that while the motor pants
You miss the nightingale!
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To return to Alfriston, there are two brief excursions (possible in the
vehicles that are glanced at in the foregoing verses) which ought to be
described here: to Alciston and to Wilmington.
