WITH lifted feet, hands still, <br />I am poised, and down the hill <br />Dart, with heedful mind; <br />The air goes by in a wind. <br /> <br />Swifter and yet more swift, <br />Till the heart with a mighty lift <br />Makes the lungs laugh, the throat cry:-- <br />'O bird, see; see, bird, I fly. <br /> <br />'Is this, is this your joy? <br />O bird, then I, though a boy <br />For a golden moment share <br />Your feathery life in air!' <br /> <br />Say, heart, is there aught like this <br />In a world that is full of bliss? <br />'Tis more than skating, bound <br />Steel-shod to the level ground. <br /> <br />Speed slackens now, I float <br />Awhile in my airy boat; <br />Till, when the wheels scarce crawl, <br />My feet to the treadles fall. <br /> <br />Alas, that the longest hill <br />Must end in a vale; but still, <br />Who climbs with toil, wheresoe'er, <br />Shall find wings waiting there.<br /><br />Henry Charles Beeching<br /><br />http://www.poemhunter.com/poem/going-down-hill-on-a-bicycle-a-boy-s-song/
