How heavy a journey for weary feet! what wings must Atalanta have to flit over all this hollow and hill, through sour wood and sullen water, and by the red waste of sun-baked clay!
W.E.B. Du Bois: “How heavy a journey for weary feet! what wings must Atalanta have to flit over all this hollow and hill, through sour…”
Editor's note · Context
This passage poetically describes the arduous journey of progress and the challenges that must be overcome to achieve it.
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Hear my cry, O God the Reader; vouchsafe that this my book fall not still-born into the world wilderness.
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