To The Bicyclist Bending Forward

Oh, youth, who, bending forward, rieles apace, With melaucholy stamped upon his face, Pursuing pleasure with a frenzled eye. Yet mocked by her, however fast you fly, Are yon aware how horrible you look? No guy invented for a picture book Was ever a more painful sight than thou. Lord of the bent back and the anxious brow, Oh.sit up straight and try to wear a sinile: Be less inteut to pile up mile on mile Enjoy the prospects as you glide aloug. The trees, the suushine, and the robin's song. To us who view you scorching day by day, Bent on your bar ín such an awkward way, You are the homeliest thius on earth, my lad, Oh, situp straight, and make the landscape glad!