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The surest thing there is is we are riders,
And though none too successful at it, guiders, Through everything presented, land and tide And now the very air, of what we ride. What is this talked-of mystery of birth But being mounted bareback on the earth? We can just see the infant up astride, His small fist buried in the bushy hide. There is our wildest mount--a headless horse. But though it runs unbridled off its course, And all our blandishments would seem defied, We have ideas yet that we haven't tried. Unsatisfied? Search for more:Other Cool Sites:Hot Arts & Stage NewsLyrics Catalogue Sound Tracks Guide Guide to Serials and Shows English Subtitles For DivX Movies Hundreds of Cooking Recipes Over 5000 Cocktails Recipes Cool Online Encyclopedia Cellulars Descriptions and Reviews Algorithms Dictionary Funny Jokes and Anecdotes. Usenet Newsgroups Reader |