A .
V . RATCLIFFE .
FIGURE
OF
SPEED .
L
ERE
does
she
sit,
her
foot upon
the wing
11 Of
a
winged
wheel
,
and
in
one mighty
hand
Holding
aloft her
golden
rod
of
power
;
And
in
the other
hand
a
flaming
bar
,
With
spear
-
like
darting
jaggéd
lightning
heads
.
Her
face
is
like
some ancient hero
's
face
,
Far
-
seeing
eyes
,
and
brows
,
where
sleep
the thoughts
That
shall
be
born
in
lightnings
,
and
her
lips
Most
smoothly
curved
,
but
set
too
firm
that love
Should
dally
with
his
rosy
kisses
there
.
Her
corslet
clasps her
firm
and
vital breasts
,
But
leaves
uncaught
her
strong
and placid
neck
,
While her
loose
cloak
like
light around
her
floats
.
The
very
sandals
of
her
feet are
tipped
With
little
wings
!
Oh
,
I
could
fly
with
her
Into
the
farthest
of
her
dimmest
dreams
,
And
grip
her
heart
,
and
press
it
to
mine
own
!
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