 Going Down Hill on a Bicycle by Henry Charles Beeching Read for LibriVox.org by Algie Pug, Perth, Western Australia 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! Is this, is this your joy? O bird, then I, though a boy, For a golden moment share your feathery life In air. Say, heart, is there ought like this In a world that is full of bliss? It is more than skating, Bound steel-shod to the level ground. Seed slackens now, I float a while in my eerie boat, Till, when the wheels scarce crawl, my feet to the treadles fall, Alas, that the longest hill must end in a veil, But still, who climbs with toil, Where so ever shall find wings waiting there. End of poem This recording is in the public domain. Going downhill on a bicycle, By Henry Jar speaking, Read for LibriVox.org by Dana Meilinger in May 2010 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, Oh, bird, see, see, bird, I fly! Is this, is this your joy? Oh, bird, an eye, though a boy, For a golden moment share your feathery life In air. Say, heart, is there ought like this In a world that is full of bliss? It is more than skating, Bound steel-shod to the level ground. Eight seconds now, I float awhile in my airy boat, Till, when the wheels scare scroll, My feet to the trellors fall, Alas, that the longest hill must end in a veil, But still, who climbs with toil, Where so ever shall find wings waiting there. End of poem This recording is in the public domain. Going downhill on a bicycle, By Henry Jar speaking, With lifted feet, hand 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, Oh, bird, see, see, bird, I fly! Is this, is this your joy, oh bird, Than I, though a boy, for golden moment share Your feathery life in air? Say, heart, is there ought like this In a world that is full of bliss? It is more than skating, Bound steel-shod to the level ground. Speed slackens now, I float awhile in my airy boat, Till, when the wheels scare scroll, My feet to the trellors fall. Alas, that the longest hill must end in a veil, But still, who climbs with toil, Where so ever shall find wings waiting there. End of poem This recording is in the public domain. Going downhill on a bicycle, By Henry Jar's beaching, Read fully revoked.org by Ernst Patinama, With lifted feet, hand 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, Oh, bird, see, see, bird, I fly! Is this, is this your joy, oh bird, Than I, though a boy, for a golden moment Share your feathery life in air? Say hard, is there ought like this In a world that is full of bliss? This more than skating, Bound steel-shod to the level ground. Speed slackens now, I float awhile in my airy boat, Till, when the wheels scare scroll, My feet to the trellors fall. Alas, the longest till must end in a veil, But still, who climbs with toil, where so air, Shall find wings waiting there. End of poem This recording is in the public domain. Going downhill on a bicycle, By Henry Jar's beaching, Read fully revoked.org by Ernst Patinama, With lifted feet, hand still, I am poised, and down the hill dark, 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, Oh, bird, see, see, bird, I fly! Is this, is this your joy, oh bird, Than I, though a boy, For a golden moment, Share your feathery life in air? Say, heart, is there ought like this, In a whirl that is full of bliss? Tis more than skating, Bound steel-shod to the level ground. Speed slackens now, I float awhile in my airy boat, Till, when the wheels scare scroll, My feet to the trellors fall. Alas, that the longest hill must end in a veil, But still, who climbs with toil, Where so air, shall find wings waiting there. End of poem. This recording is in the public domain. Going downhill on a bicycle, By Henry Jar's beaching, Read for Libervox.org by Leanne Howlett, 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, Oh, bird, see, see, bird, I fly! Is this, is this your joy? Oh, bird, than I, though a boy, For a golden moment share your feathery life in air? Say, heart, is there ought like this, In a whirl that is full of bliss? Tis more than skating, Bound steel-shod to the level ground. Speed slackens now, I float awhile in my airy boat, Till when the wheels scarce crawl, My feet to the treadles fall. Alas, that the longest hill must end in a veil, But still, who climbs with toil, Where so air, shall find wings waiting there. End of poem. This recording is in the public domain. Going downhill on a bicycle, By Henry Jar's beaching, Read for Leapervox.org by Mark Smith of Simpsonville, South Carolina. 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, Oh, bird, see, see, bird, I fly! Is this, is this your joy? Oh, bird, then I, though a boy, For a golden moment share, Your feathery life in air? Say, heart, is there ought like this, In a whirl that is full of bliss? Tis more than skating, Bound steel-shod to the level ground. Speed slackens now, I float awhile in my airy boat, Till, when the wheels scarce crawl, My feet to the treadles fall. Alas! that the longest hill must end in a veil, But still, who climbs with toil where so air, Shall find wings waiting there. End of poem. This recording is in the public domain. Going downhill on a bicycle, By Henry Jar's beaching, Read for Leapervox.org by Mark Buckley. 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, Oh, bird, see, see, bird, I fly! Is this, is this your joy? Oh, bird, then I, though a boy, For a golden moment share, Your feathery life in air? Say, heart, is there ought like this, In a whirl that is full of bliss? It is more than skating bound steel-shod to the level ground. Speed slackens now, I float a while in my airy boat, Till when the wheels scarce crawl, My feet to the treadles fall. Alas! that the longest hill must end in a veil, But still, who climbs with toil where so air, Shall find wings waiting there. End of poem. This recording is in the public domain. Going downhill on a bicycle, By Henry Jar's beaching, Read for LibriVox.org by Robin Scala. 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, Oh, bird, see, see, bird, I fly! Is this, is this your joy? Oh, bird, then I, though a boy, For a golden moment share, Your feathery life in air. Say, heart, is there ought like this, In a whirl that is full of bliss? Tis more than skating bound steel-shod to the level ground. Speed slackens now, I float a while in my airy boat, Till, when the wheels scarce crawl, My feet to the treadles fall, Alas, that the longest hill Must end in a veil, but still, Who climbs with toil, where so air Shall find wings waiting there. End of poem. This recording is in the public domain. Going down hill on a bicycle, By Henry Charles Beaching, Read for LibriVox.org by Raven Notation. 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! Is this, is this your joy, O bird, than I, though a boy, For a golden moment share, Your feathery life in air? Say, heart, is there ought like this, In a whirl that is full of bliss? Tis more than skating bound steel shod To the level ground. Speed slackens now, I float a while In my airy boat, till, When the wheels scarce crawl, My feet to the treadles fall. Alas, that the longest hill Must end in a veil, But still, who climbs with toil, Where so ill, shall find wings waiting there? End of poem. This recording is in the public domain.