Page:Oxford Book of English Verse 1250-1900.djvu/1058

 Jesu, King and Lord, Whose are my foes to fight, Gird me with Thy sword Swift and sharp and bright. Thee would I serve if I might; And conquer if I can, From day-dawn till night, Take the strength of a man.

Spirit of Love and Truth, Breathing in grosser clay, The light and flame of youth, Delight of men in the fray, Wisdom in strength's decay; From pain, strife, wrong to be free, This best gift I pray, Take my spirit to Thee.

856. Going down Hill on a Bicycle

A BOY'S SONG

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!'