In this dim firmament, the stars Whirl by in blazing files and tiers; Kin meteors graze our flying bars, Amid the spinning spheres. Speed! speed! until the quivering rails Flash silver where the head-light gleams, As when on lakes the Moon impales The waves upon its beams. Life throbs about me, yet I stand Outgazing on majestic Power; Death rides with me, on either hand, In my communion hour. You that 'neath country skies can pray, Scoff not at me -- the city clod; -- My only respite of the Day Is this wild ride -- with God. The Automobile. [Percy MacKaye] Fluid the world flowed under us: the hills Billow on billow of umbrageous green Heaved us, aghast, to fresh horizons, seen One rapturous instant, blind with flash of rills And silver-rising storms and dewy stills Of dripping boulders, till the dim ravine Drowned us again in leafage, whose serene Coverts grew loud with our tumultuous wills. Then all of Nature's old amazement seemed Sudden to ask us: "Is this also Man? This plunging, volant, land-amphibian What Plato mused and Paracelsus dreamed? Reply!" And piercing us with ancient scan, The shrill, primeval hawk gazed down -- and screamed. The Black Vulture. [George Sterling] Aloof upon the day's immeasured dome, He holds unshared the silence of the sky. Far down his bleak, relentless eyes descry The eagle's empire and the falcon's home -- Far down, the galleons of sunset roam; His hazards on the sea of morning lie; Serene, he hears the broken tempest sigh Where cold sierras gleam like scattered foam. And least of all he holds the human swarm -- Unwitting now that envious men prepare To make their dream and its fulfillment one, When, poised above the caldrons of the storm, Their hearts, contemptuous of death, shall dare His roads between the thunder and the sun. Chavez. [Mildred McNeal Sweeney] So hath he fallen, the Endymion of the air, And so lies down in slumber lapped for aye. Diana, passing, found his youth too fair, His soul too fleet and willing to obey. She swung her golden moon before his eyes -- Dreaming, he rose to follow -- and ran -- and was away. His foot was winged as the mounting sun. Earth he disdained -- the dusty ways of men Not yet had learned. His spirit longed to run With the bright clouds, his brothers, to answer when The airs were fleetest and could give him hand Into the starry fields beyond our plodding ken. All wittingly that glorious way he chose, And loved the peril when it was most bright. He tried anew the long-forbidden snows And like an eagle topped the dropping height Of Nagenhorn, and still toward Italy Past peak and cliff pressed on, in glad, unerring flight.