Explore "The Bridge of the Hundred Spans" by Gilbert Parker on Textopian. Read with annotations and highlights.
It was the time that the Long Divide / Blooms and glows like an hour-old bride; / It was the days when the cattle come / Back from their winter wand'rings home; / Time when the Kicking Horse shows its teeth, / Snarls and foams with a demon's breath; / When the sun with a million levers lifts / Abodes of snow from the rocky rifts; / When the line-man's eyes, like the lynx's, scans / The lofty Bridge of the Hundred Spans.
Round a curve, down a sharp incline, / If the red-eyed lantern made no sign, / Swept the train, and upon the bridge / That binds a canon from ridge to ridge.