Come, abashed Self! admit one thing:
You have been indoors too much of late…
You should have been out wrestling with the sun,
Or running races with the rolling Earth…
Where’s the old smell of you, when, nostrils dilated,
You were drenched with sea-salt and soil-odor?
Where’s the lusty tang of your voice, cleansed by strong winds?
Your sun-burnt cheek?
And the animal magic of your eyes?
Out of the house with you…
Into the water! Into the sky!
Over the hills!
—James Oppenheim, “Out!,” War and Laughter, 1916