. . "Faster than fairies, faster than witches,Bridges and houses, hedges and ditches;And charging along like troops in a battleAll through the meadows the horses and cattle:All of the sights of the hill and the plainFly as thick as driving rain;And ever again, in the wink of an eye,Painted stations whistle by.Here is a child who clambers and scrambles,All by himself and gathering brambles;Here is a tra" . .