Classic Poem

I

Oh, beautiful bicycle, noiselessly gliding,
How happy the wheelman when trav'ling with thee!
When high on thy saddle he's fearlessly riding,
How grand and inspiring thy motion so free
While horsemen may gather and jockeys may scorn us,
Yet dearer the bicycle daily shall be;
And ev'ry true wheelman shall join in the chorus —
" Oh, bicycle, ever we'll rally to thee! "

II

When far from the city, where wild flow'rs are growing,
And through the green lanes where the violets hide
While breathing the health-giving gales that are blowing,
How happy the wheelmen as gaily they ride!
And sharply the shining bell's musical warning
Rings out on the air as they rapidly move.
Oh, never Arabian courser's adorning
Can win our true hearts from the steed that we love!

III

Then come, brothers, come! with our bicycles hasting,
No longer at books or at work let us stay!
No longer in cities the sunny hours wasting,
Let us skim with the birds to the woodlands away!
The sunlight and breezes our strength shall restore us,
And health to the spirit our freedom shall be;
And ev'ry true wheelman shall join in the chorus —
" Oh, bicycle, ever we'll rally to thee! "