A Racing Eight
Who knows it not, who loves it not, The long and steady swing, The instant dip, the iron grip, The rowlocks linked ring, The arrowy sway of hands away, The slider oiling aft, The forward sweep, the backward leap That speed the flying craft? A racing eight of perfect mould, True to the builders law, That takes the waters gleaming gold Without a single flaw. A ship deep, resonant within, Harmonious to the core, That vibrates to her polished skin The tune of wave and oar. A racing eight and no man late, And all hearts in the boat; The men who work and never shirk, Who long to be afloat. The crew who burn from stem to stern To win the foremost place, The crew to row, the boat to go The eight to win the race.
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"Who knows it not, who loves it not,..."
James Lister Cuthbertson's contribution to classic is further solidified by the brilliance found in "A Racing Eight"... ### Why We Love This Line At Linespedia, we believe that poetry is the ultimate sanctuary for the soul...