Going Afoot: A Book on Walking

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Leauge of walkers, 1920 - Walking - 146 pages
 

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Page 2 - I have met with but one or two persons in the course of my life who understood the art of Walking, that is, of taking walks— who had a genius, so to speak, for sauntering, which word 15 is beautifully derived "from idle people who roved about the country, in the Middle Ages, and asked charity, under pretense of going a la Sainte Terre," to the Holy Land, till the children exclaimed, "There goes a Sainte20 Terrer,
Page 142 - And I shall have some peace there, for peace comes dropping slow, Dropping from the veils of the morning to where the cricket sings; There midnight's all a glimmer, and noon a purple glow, And evening full of the linnet's wings.
Page 40 - CHARLES SCRIBNER'S SONS. THE VAGABOND (To an air of Schubert) GIVE to me the life I love, Let the lave go by me, Give the jolly heaven above And the byway nigh me. Bed in the bush with stars to see, Bread I dip in the river — There's the life for a man like me, There's the life for ever. Let the blow fall soon or late, Let what will be o'er me; Give the face of earth around And the road before me. Wealth I seek not, hope nor love, Nor a friend to know me; All I seek the heaven above And the road...
Page 80 - Will the day's journey take the whole long day? From morn to night rny friend. But is there for the night a resting,place? A roof for when the slow, dark hours begin. May not the darkness hide it from my face? You cannot miss that inn.
Page 142 - And live alone in the bee-loud glade. And I shall have some peace there, for peace comes dropping slow, Dropping from the veils of the morning to where the cricket sings ; There midnight's all a glimmer, and noon a purple glow, And evening full of the linnet's wings. I will arise and go now, for always night and day I hear lake water lapping with low sounds by the shore ; While I stand on the roadway, or on the pavements gray, I hear it in the deep heart's core.
Page 40 - ... nor love, Nor a friend to know me ; All I seek the heaven above And the road below me. Or let autumn fall on me Where afield I linger, Silencing the bird on tree, Biting the blue finger: White as meal the frosty field — Warm the fireside haven — Not to autumn will I yield, Not to winter even ! Let the blow fall soon or late, Let what will be o'er me ; Give the face of earth around, And the road before me.
Page 97 - To explore, enjoy and render accessible the mountain regions of the Pacific Coast; to publish authentic information concerning them; to enlist the support and cooperation of the people and the Government in preserving the forests and other natural features of the Sierra Nevada Mountains.
Page 65 - ... hours— as the swinging of dumbbells or chairs; but is itself the enterprise and adventure of the day. If you would get exercise, go in search of the springs of life. Think of a man's swinging dumbbells for his health, when those springs are bubbling up in far-off pastures unsought by him!
Page 41 - The first care of a man settling in the country should be to open the face of the earth to himself, by a little knowledge of nature, or a great deal, if he can, of birds, plants, rocks, astronomy ; in short, the art of taking a walk.
Page 104 - With swifter scintillations fling tne spark That fires the dark? Again, Like April rain Of mist and sunshine mingled, moves the strain O'er hill and plain.

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