The Night Express.

Lone midnight's inky, silent hour,
Is rent by mighty man-made power;
The monster of the railway track
With sudden roar comes from the black.
The night express is rushing by,
A serpent with a gleaming eye,
And glowing phosphorescent light
From head to tail—a splendid sight.
A shriek, a snort, a thunderous roar—
Smoke belching from the iron bore;
A tongue of flame, and hissing steam,
A slender, supple, sinewy gleam.
Then all is silent once again
As in the engulfing night the train
Bears ever on its human load
Along the mighty iron road.
Thus, to its task forever true,
The night express goes thundering through.

—O.M..

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