 | A thousand more verses |  |
Oh where will be the fellow-man—whatever he deserves,
That whistles in the railway-car, and rasps our trembling nerves?
We do not know: we only hope that ere a century goes,
His improvised and doleful tune may reach a blesséd close.
That whistles in the railway-car, and rasps our trembling nerves?
We do not know: we only hope that ere a century goes,
His improvised and doleful tune may reach a blesséd close.
| A thousand more verses | |