PROLOGUE. THERE'S something in a flying horse, But through the clouds I'll never float Whose shape is like the crescent-moon. And now I have a little Boat, In shape a very crescent-moon: Fast through the clouds my Boat can sail; Look up and you shall see me soon! The woods, my Friends, are round you roaring, Rocking and roaring like a sea; The noise of danger fills your ears, And ye have all a thousand fears Both for my little Boat and me! Meanwhile I from the helm admire Away we go, my Boat and I Frail man ne'er sate in such another ; Each is contented with the other. Away we go- and what care we Up goes my Boat among the stars Through many a breathless field of light, Through many a long blue field of ether, Leaving ten thousand stars beneath her, Up goes my little Boat so bright! We pry among them all — have shot High o'er the red-haired race of Mars The towns in Saturn are ill-built, But proud let him be who has seen them; Each other in the vast abyss, Swift Mercury resounds with mirth, Then back to Earth, the dear green Earth; Whole ages if I here should roam, The world for my remarks and me Would not a whit the better be; And there it is, the matchless earth! There spreads the famed Pacific Ocean! Through the grey clouds the Alps are here, Like waters in commotion ! Yon tawny slip is Lybia's sands— That silver thread the river Dnieper - And see the town where I was born! Never did fifty things at once |