Toggle Dropdown Serif Sans-serif Monospaced Dyslexic Bold Italic Font size: 1 2 3 4 5 6 7 8 9 10 11 12 13 14 15 16 Mark as read [object Object] Only page of title 113 11 Easy O what a miracle wind is this Has crossed the English land to-day With an unprecedented kiss, And wonderfully found a way! Unsmirched incredibly and clean, Between the towns and factories, Avoiding, has his long flight been, Bringing a sky like Sicily's. O fine escape, horizon pure As Rome's! Black chimneys left and right, But not for him, the straight, the sure, His luminous day, his spacious night. How keen his choice, how swift his feet! Narrow the way and hard to find! This delicate stepper and discreet Walked not like any worldly wind. Most like a man in man's own day, One of the few, a perfect one: His open earth -- the single way; His narrow road -- the open sun. End of title Sign in to unlock this title Sign in to continue reading, it's free! As an unregistered user you can only read a little bit. Links External resources bookshop Wikipedia Project Gutenberg Goodreads Google Books
O fine escape, horizon pure As Rome's! Black chimneys left and right, But not for him, the straight, the sure, His luminous day, his spacious night.
How keen his choice, how swift his feet! Narrow the way and hard to find! This delicate stepper and discreet Walked not like any worldly wind.
Most like a man in man's own day, One of the few, a perfect one: His open earth -- the single way; His narrow road -- the open sun.
