Property:Has text
From Off the Road Database
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C
<div class="poem">
<p>From Colorado Springs, at an altitude of about 7,000 feet, Fred and his photographer drove to Manitou where they bought a hand ax, a shovel, and about 100 feet of rope. Then they drove to Cascade, where they had an early lunch. Here they were directed to follow the canyon road a mile and a half, where they could see a dim road turning to the left, and a small wooden bridge across a creek; there they turned immediately and started a stiff climb on a shelf road dug on the side of the mountain and ending directly over Cascade.
</p>
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<div class="poem">
<p>From Colorado Springs, at an altitude of about 7,000 feet, Fred and his photographer drove to Manitou where they bought a hand ax, a shovel, and about 100 feet of rope. Then they drove to Cascade, where they had an early lunch. Here they were directed to follow the canyon road a mile and a half, where they could see a dim road turning to the left, and a small wooden bridge across a creek; there they turned immediately and started a stiff climb on a shelf road dug on the side of the mountain and ending directly over Cascade.
</p>
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<div class="poem">
<p>Starting the car, they went down grade before resuming the climb. Rocks, boulders, fallen trees, and other debris blocked the road and had to be cleared away, while washouts were numerous. At the Halfway House, there was a mountain stream with very steep sides. It had once been bridged just below timberline. The two men carried poles from a nearby corral, lashed them together in pairs with their rope, buried the ends in the earth to make them firm, and drove over them as if they were a bridge.
</p>
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<div class="poem">
<p>Starting the car, they went down grade before resuming the climb. Rocks, boulders, fallen trees, and other debris blocked the road and had to be cleared away, while washouts were numerous. At the Halfway House, there was a mountain stream with very steep sides. It had once been bridged just below timberline. The two men carried poles from a nearby corral, lashed them together in pairs with their rope, buried the ends in the earth to make them firm, and drove over them as if they were a bridge.
</p>
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<div class="poem">
<p>The eeriness of the day was climaxed at Hanna, where we ate lunch, by the pervading gloom of the villagers. Upon inquiring what was wrong, we were told that a second mine disaster had occurred within the last few days and bodies still were being brought up out of the shaft. We were glad to move on, even if it might be to trouble of our own ahead.
</p>
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<div class="poem">
<p>The eeriness of the day was climaxed at Hanna, where we ate lunch, by the pervading gloom of the villagers. Upon inquiring what was wrong, we were told that a second mine disaster had occurred within the last few days and bodies still were being brought up out of the shaft. We were glad to move on, even if it might be to trouble of our own ahead.
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<div class="poem">
<p>The car was shipped back to Detroit by express so as to be ready to finish its journey to New York City, and Fred was to follow it to Detroit.
</p>
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<div class="poem">
<p>The car was shipped back to Detroit by express so as to be ready to finish its journey to New York City, and Fred was to follow it to Detroit.
</p>
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<div class="poem">
<p>I don't suppose my husband and I could possibly make clear to modern motorists the intense affection we developed for a piece of machinery—our little Brush Runabout. But at the end of our ordeal (it was 1908) we parted with the car as if it had been a favorite child.
</p>
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<div class="poem">
<p>I don't suppose my husband and I could possibly make clear to modern motorists the intense affection we developed for a piece of machinery—our little Brush Runabout. But at the end of our ordeal (it was 1908) we parted with the car as if it had been a favorite child.
</p>
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D
<div class="poem">
<p>The Dawn! The Dawn! The crimson-tinted, comes<br />
Out of the low still skies, over the hills,<br />
Manhattan's roofs and spires and cheerless domes!<br />
The Dawn! My spirit to its spirit thrills.<br />
Almost the mighty city is asleep,<br />
No pushing crowd, no tramping, tramping feet.<br />
But here and there a few cars groaning creep<br />
Along, above, and underneath the street,<br />
Bearing their strangely-ghostly burdens by,<br />
The women and the men of garish nights,<br />
Their eyes wine-weakened and their clothes awry,<br />
Grotesques beneath the strong electric lights.<br />
The shadows wane. The Dawn comes to New York.<br />
And I go darkly-rebel to my work.
</p>
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<div class="poem">
<p>We trudge along wearily,<br />
Heavy with lack of sleep,<br />
Spiritless, yet with pretence of gaiety.
</p>
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<div class="poem">
<p>The sun brings crimson to the colourless sky;<br />
Light shines from brass and steel;<br />
We trudge on wearily—<br />
Our unspoken prayer:<br />
"God, end this black and aching anguish<br />
Soon, with vivid crimson agonies of death,<br />
End it in mist-pale sleep."
</p>
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<div class="poem">
<p>The grim dawn lightens thin bleak clouds;<br />
In the hills beyond the flooded meadows<br />
Lies death-pale, death-still mist.
</p>
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<div class="poem">
<p>If you are inclined to lament and say,<br />
There are no opportunities found today,<br />
With the rest of the world you're out of step,<br />
Your body and mind are short on pep.
</p>
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<div class="poem">
<p>Today is the golden day of days,<br />
Opportunity all around you plays,<br />
Much depends that you keep on a-trying,<br />
If you climb like Studebakers people are buying.
</p>
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<div class="poem">
<p>Opportunities once flew thick and fast,<br />
In years far in the distant past,<br />
You'll know they are here today, instead,<br />
If you read the lives of men that are dead.
</p>
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<div class="poem">
<p>Read Abraham Lincoln, American,<br />
Enshrined in the heart of every man.<br />
He was born honest in humble obscurity,<br />
He made for himself his opportunity.
</p>
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<div class="poem">
<p>To the White House and the President's chair,<br />
No American boy need have despair,<br />
There is nothing a boy can't overcome,<br />
With talent and energy making the run.
</p>
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