The Song of the Train.

Hear the song of the train,
And its simple refrain,
Over, and over, and over again,
The passenger, deep in the soft window seat
Is drowsily nodding his head to the beat;
While others are sitting and talking at ease,
Reading or sewing whatever they please;
But I am intent on the quick-changing view
And thrilled to the marrow with pastures anew.
How the meadows flash by,
And are lost to the eye,
We're over a river, and still high and dry.
On, onward and on,
The river has gone,
The trees vanish quickly, and ever anon
The kiddies, excited, wave hands in delight;
Animals, startled, rear off in affright,
And are whisked out of sight.
How swiftly, how surely, we cover the ground,
How high the embankments rise up all around,
We're under a mountain and still safe and sound.
Three cheers for the train,
With its simple refrain,
Over, and over, and over again.
Now daylight once more,
With the ocean before,
We glide like a snake round the sandy sea shore.
The sea, oh! the sea,
So boundless and free,
Where kiddies like sunbeams leap round in their glee;
Where white seagulls cry,
And whirl in the sky.
All gone—we are climbing—how swiftly we fly
Our mighty iron dragon is climbing the hills,
And out of its nostrils the red fire spills,
And piercingly, clearly, its raucous voice shrills.
Slow, slower, and slow,
Slow, slower, and slow,
Hurrah for the ocean extending below;
Hurrah! Jubilation!
We've stopped—at our station.

Mrs. T. B. Warnes.