Sunday, May 14, 2017

The Train by C. H. Crandall

The Train
by C. H. Crandall

It comes!
It hums!
With ear to ground
I catch the sound,
The warning courier-roar
That runs along before.
The pulsing, struggling, now is clearer!
The hillsides echo "nearer, nearer,"
Till like a drove of rushing, trampling
With dust and wind and clang and 
Shriek and rattle,
Passes the cyclops of the train!
I see a fair face at the pane,--
Like a piano string
The rails, unburdened, sing;
The white smoke flies
Up to the skies;
The sound 
Is drowned--

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