Give me a race that is run in a breath,
Straight from the start to the “tape;”
Distance hath charms, but a “Ding Dong” means death,
Death without flowers and crape.
“On your mark,” “Set,”—for a moment we strain,
Held by a leash all unseen;...
En garde, Messieurs, too long have I endured,
Too long with patience borne the world’s rebuff;
Now he who shoulders me shall find me rough;
The weakness of an easy soul is cured.
I ’ve shouted, leathern-lunged, when fame or gold
Were won by others,...
