Nigher still and nigher
Down the hill thou springest;
Like a flash of fire,
O’er the ground thou wingest,
And “ting”-ing still dost speed, and speeding ever “ting”-est.
In the golden lightening
Of the sunken sun,
And when day is brightening
Thou dost rush and run,
Like a silk-bodied “jock” whose race is just begun.