New Zealand's Crack Express

(By Cyril S. Lewin, Railway Goods Yard Staff, Christchurch.)

Black is the sky, and a starless night, When the pulse of life is still;

Round the curve comes a blinding light, With a roar and a whistle shrill.

Tissues of iron, muscles of steel, Born of the brain of man.

Onward it sweeps with boundless zeal As it speeds on the iron span.

Onward it sweeps with a human freight, Ever the steel rails riding.

The “Limited” train can never wait, She has passed the “Goods” in the siding!

Eating the miles with a tireless zest, Cleaving the black of night,

Travelling north, travelling south By the blinding bright headlight!

Mile upon mile of gleaming track Speeds by in monotonous drone,

Of the click-erty, clack-erty, click-erty clack

As the “Limited's” nearing home.

Silence! Quiet of night once more As the “Limited” speeds in flight;

Gone with a rush and rattle and roar Is this pulsing bird of the night.