When the scorching sun's high at noon,
I run from here to there,
From east to west, north to south,
Through the fields, over the ditches,
...
The Titanic! The gigantic steamer!
The luxury of the world!
Is She the pride of modern technique?
Or the shame of all the helmsmen?
...
I'm driving on Highway I-95,
On a long journey to south and sea.
I start from the Garden State,
All the way down to Florida.
...
A little brook tumbles down the mountain.
A narrow footpath snakes beside it,
Which I follow, treading on the steps.
The brook's so clear, so cool;
...