 | Poems by Henry Septimus Sutton |  |
231
A RAILWAY RIDE.
While I ride, while I ride,
While past field and village glide,
Streaming goes my heart's desire
Like a back-blown flame of fire,
Longing ever to abide
Far behind me, while I ride.
While past field and village glide,
Streaming goes my heart's desire
Like a back-blown flame of fire,
Longing ever to abide
Far behind me, while I ride.
O my Queen, O my Queen,
Canst thou feel that flame unseen,
Flame not hurting though it burns,
Flame that homeward still returns,
Growing ever, eager, keen,
To thee rushing, O my Queen?
Canst thou feel that flame unseen,
Flame not hurting though it burns,
Flame that homeward still returns,
Growing ever, eager, keen,
To thee rushing, O my Queen?
Dost thou know, dost thou know
What it is that warms thee so,
Bids thee be of happy cheer,
Lifts thee into heavenly sphere,
Makes thee every fear forego
In my absence,—dost thou know?
What it is that warms thee so,
Bids thee be of happy cheer,
Lifts thee into heavenly sphere,
Makes thee every fear forego
In my absence,—dost thou know?
232
It shall burn, it shall burn
Till its master doth return,
Nor shall then its glowings cease,
But for evermore, in peace,
Fed from an exhaustless urn
By good angels, it shall burn.
Till its master doth return,
Nor shall then its glowings cease,
But for evermore, in peace,
Fed from an exhaustless urn
By good angels, it shall burn.
While I ride, while I ride,
While o'er railway swiftly glide
On the wheels whose rhythmic beat
Sets itself to music sweet,
This the song of loving pride
Sung within me while I ride.
While o'er railway swiftly glide
On the wheels whose rhythmic beat
Sets itself to music sweet,
This the song of loving pride
Sung within me while I ride.
| Poems by Henry Septimus Sutton | |