Classic Poem

In the beginning,
Ere the artificer
Built him the wood thing
Names the celerifere ,
Baron von Draise —
Four years from Waterloo —
Vengefully pondering,
Impotent Gaul,
As he heard how the thunder
Of Wellington's soldiery,
England's artillery,
Wheeled through the world —
Grinning, he scrawled
In the dust with his walking-stick
A shape for a sign,
Two circles: circumference
Perfectly flawless,
Joined and united them,
One, indissoluble,
(Wondrous intelligent!)
That was the birth of me:
I am the Bike.

High and round, rude and haughty,
Big-wheeled, little saddled,
I froze into steel;
And he knew me and named me,
Bone-shaker, Velocipede,
Father of Bicycles,
Winger of woman,
Banishing petticoats,
Bringing the female
(Long since irrational)
Rational dress.
Ho! then the polish
And pride of my ministry.
Ho! then, the gleam
Of my glittering nickel-plate.
Ho! then, the park,
And the pleasaunce of Battersea.
Ho! then, the hose
Of my deftly shod womankind.
I, the ubiquitous
Angel of exercise,
I am the Bike.

Mount, then, my children,
Follow, oh, follow me,
Forth through the daylight
Into the shadow-land
(Time to light up!)
Rush by the omnibus,
Halting not, tiring not,
Pedaling evenly
Over the stones.
On, till the turbulent
Traffic grows fainter,
All of you, each of you.
Clerk from the counting-house,
Peer from the imperious
Portals of Westminster,
" Devils " from Fleet Street,
Maidens from Lockhart's,
Costers from Whitechapel.
Follow, oh, follow, then,
Follow the Bike.

I am the coin maker.
Hark, through the deathly
Depression of Stock Exchange,
Hark, how the companies
Limitless, limited
Under the Act,
Spring into life
At the touch of my wheel,
See them capitalize
Million on million,
Gear Case and Handle-Bar,
Wallet and Tire:
Everything patented,
Everything profiting.
Mark the advertisements —
Vast, multitudinous —
All the world conquered,
All things subservient,
I am alone triumphing,
I, the Victorious,
I am the Bike.