Keeping the window down
Though all the carriage frown,
Why dost thou so rejoice in air?
Not air that nourishes and braces,
Such as one finds in watering-places,
But air to chill a polar bear—
Malignant air at sixty miles an hour
That rakes the carriage fore and aft,
Wherein we cower;
Not air at all, but sheer revengeful draught!