We're away! and the wind whistles shrewd <br />In our whiskers and teeth; <br />And the granite-like grey of the road <br />Seems to slide underneath. <br />As an eagle might sweep through the sky, <br />So we sweep through the land; <br />And the pallid pedestrians fly <br />When they hear us at hand. <br />We outpace, we outlast, we outstrip! <br />Not the fast-fleeing hare, <br />Nor the racehorses under the whip, <br />Nor the birds of the air <br />Can compete with our swiftness sublime, <br />Our ease and our grace. <br />We annihilate chickens and time <br />And policemen and space. <br /> <br />Do you mind that fat grocer who crossed? <br />How he dropped down to pray <br />In the road when he saw he was lost; <br />How he melted away <br />Underneath, and there rang through the fog <br />His earsplitting squeal <br />As he went -- Is that he or a dog, <br />That stuff on the wheel?<br /><br />Andrew Barton Paterson<br /><br />http://www.poemhunter.com/poem/the-lay-of-the-motor-car/
