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260 To hear the hiss of steam—the merry shriek—the
 * steam-whistle—the laughing locomotive!

To push with resistless way, and speed off in the
 * distance.

O the horseman's and horsewoman's joys! The saddle—the gallop—the pressure upon the seat
 * —the cool gurgling by the ears and hair.

O the fireman's joys! I hear the alarm at dead of night, I hear bells—shouts!—I pass the crowd—I run! The sight of the flames maddens me with pleasure.

O the joy of the strong-brawned fighter, towering
 * in the arena, in perfect condition, conscious of
 * power, thirsting to meet his opponent.

O the joy of that vast elemental sympathy which only
 * the human Soul is capable of generating and
 * emitting in steady and limitless floods.

O the mother's joys! The watching—the endurance—the precious love—
 * the anguish—the patiently yielded life.

O the joy of increase, growth, recuperation, The joy of soothing and pacifying—the joy of
 * concord and harmony.

O to go back to the place where I was born! O to hear the birds sing once more! To ramble about the house and barn, and over the
 * fields, once more,