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THE TRAIN
- “I PAUSE,” said the train, “As the Signalman bade—
- I pause in the dark: is my Driver afraid?
- Alight all inside me, my passengers read
- Or sleepily nod, when I tremble with speed.
- “My Driver upstanding keeps watch through the dark—
- Does he notice me throwing out spark upon spark?
- Does my Driver indeed see just as I do,
- And spell the new names of the towns we pass through?
- “Great eyes glare upon us, green, yellow, and red—
- Strange shapes in the banks our night fancies have bred!
- My skin is of iron, my nerves are of steel,
- But how does my warm‐blooded man‐driver feel?”
