| Jessie B. Rittenhouse, ed. (1869–1948). The Little Book of Modern Verse. 1917. |
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| 69. A Winter Ride |
| | | By Amy Lowell |
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| WHO shall declare the joy of the running! | |
| Who shall tell of the pleasures of flight! | |
| Springing and spurning the tufts of wild heather, | |
| Sweeping, wide-winged, through the blue dome of light. | |
| Everything mortal has moments immortal, | 5 |
| Swift and God-gifted, immeasurably bright. | |
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| So with the stretch of the white road before me, | |
| Shining snow crystals rainbowed by the sun, | |
| Fields that are white, stained with long, cool, blue shadows, | |
| Strong with the strength of my horse as we run. | 10 |
| Joy in the touch of the wind and the sunlight! | |
| Joy! With the vigorous earth I am one. | |
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