 | Studies of Sensation and Event |  |
141
THE RAILROAD.
Why! why to yon arch do the people drift;
Like a sea hurrying in to a cavern's rift;
Or like streams to a whirlpool streaming swift?
'Tis the railroad!
Each street and each causeway endeth there;
And the whole of their peoples may step one stair
Down from the arch, and a power shall bear
Them swifter than wind from the mighty lair;
'Tis the railroad!
Like a sea hurrying in to a cavern's rift;
Or like streams to a whirlpool streaming swift?
'Tis the railroad!
Each street and each causeway endeth there;
And the whole of their peoples may step one stair
Down from the arch, and a power shall bear
Them swifter than wind from the mighty lair;
'Tis the railroad!
Pass through the arch; put your ear to the ground!
This road sweepeth on through the isle, and around!
You touch that which touches the country's bound!
'Tis the railroad!
Like arrowy lightning snatched from the sky,
And bound to the earth, the bright rails lie;
And their way is straight driven through mountains high,
And headland to headland o'er vallies they tie;
'Tis the railroad!
This road sweepeth on through the isle, and around!
You touch that which touches the country's bound!
'Tis the railroad!
Like arrowy lightning snatched from the sky,
And bound to the earth, the bright rails lie;
142
And headland to headland o'er vallies they tie;
'Tis the railroad!
See how the engine hums still on the rails;
While his long train of cars slowly down to him sails;
He staggers like a brain blooded high, and he wails;
'Tis the railroad!
His irons take the cars, and screaming he goes;
Now may heaven warn before him all friends and all foes;
A whole city's missives within him repose;
Half a thousand miles his, ere the day's hours close;
'Tis the railroad!
While his long train of cars slowly down to him sails;
He staggers like a brain blooded high, and he wails;
'Tis the railroad!
His irons take the cars, and screaming he goes;
Now may heaven warn before him all friends and all foes;
A whole city's missives within him repose;
Half a thousand miles his, ere the day's hours close;
'Tis the railroad!
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