I like to see it lap the miles,
And lick the valleys up,
And stop to feed itself at tanks;
And then, prodigious, step
Around a pile of mountains,
And, supercilious, peer
In shanties by the sides of roads;
And then a quarry pare
To fit its [sides]1, and crawl between,
Complaining all the while
In horrid, hooting stanza;
Then chase itself down hill
And neigh like Boanerges;
Then, punctual as a star,
Stop - docile and omnipotent -
At its own stable door.
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View original text (without footnotes)
1 Getty, Perle: "ribs"
Authorship:
Musical settings (art songs, Lieder, mélodies, (etc.), choral pieces, and other vocal works set to this text), listed by composer (not necessarily exhaustive):
- by Gordon Getty (b. 1933), "I like to see it lap the miles" [ soprano and piano ], from The White Election - A Song Cycle for soprano and piano on 32 poems of Emily Dickinson, Part 3 : Almost Peace, no. 19 [sung text checked 1 time]
- by George Perle (1915 - 2009), "I like to see it lap the miles", 1977 [ voice and piano ], from Thirteen Dickinson Songs, no. 2 [sung text checked 1 time]
- by William Keith Rogers (b. 1921), "I like to see it lap the miles", published 1948 [ SATB chorus a cappella ], from Three Songs from Emily Dickinson, no. 2 [sung text not yet checked]
- by Adolf Weiss (1891 - 1971), "The railway train", 1928, published c1930 [ soprano and string quartet ], from Seven Songs for Soprano and String Quartet, no. 3 [sung text not yet checked]
Available translations, adaptations or excerpts, and transliterations (if applicable):
- FRE French (Français) (Guy Laffaille) , copyright © 2016, (re)printed on this website with kind permission
- GER German (Deutsch) (Bertram Kottmann) , copyright © 2017, (re)printed on this website with kind permission
Researcher for this text: Emily Ezust [
Administrator]
This text was added to the website between May 1995 and September 2003.
Line count: 16
Word count: 84
J'aime le voir avaler les Miles --
Et lécher le fond des Vallées --
Et s'arrêter pour se nourrir aux Réservoirs --
Et puis -- prodigieusement aller
Autour d'un Tas de Montagnes --
Et dédaigneusement regarder
Les cabanes -- au bord des Routes --
Et puis peler une Carrière
Pour s'ajuster à ses côtés et ramper à travers
Se plaignant tout le temps
En un couplet horrible -- de son sifflet --
Puis se pourchasser lui-même en descendant la Colline --
Et hennir comme Boanergès --
Puis -- plus à l'heure qu'une Étoile
S'arrêter -- docile et tout puissant
À la porte de son étable --