C.D. Warner, et al., comp.
The Library of the World’s Best Literature. An Anthology in Thirty Volumes. 1917.
John Godfrey Saxe (1816–1887)
Rhyme of the Rail
S
Rattling over ridges,
Shooting under arches,
Rumbling over bridges,
Whizzing through the mountains,
Buzzing o’er the vale,—
Bless me! this is pleasant,
Riding on the Rail!
In the eye of fame,
Here are very quickly
Coming to the same.
High and lowly people,
Birds of every feather,
On a common level
Traveling together!
Looming very tall;
Gentlemen at large,
Talking very small;
Gentlemen in tights,
With a loose-ish mien;
Gentlemen in gray,
Looking rather green;
Asking for the news;
Gentlemen in black,
In a fit of blues;
Gentlemen in claret,
Sober as a vicar;
Gentlemen in Tweed,
Dreadfully in liquor!
Looking very sunny,
Obviously reading
Something rather funny;
Now the smiles grow thicker,—
Wonder what they mean?
Faith, he’s got the Knicker-
Bocker Magazine!
Closing up his peepers,—
Now he snores amain,
Like the Seven Sleepers;
At his feet a volume
Gives the explanation,
How the man grew stupid
From “Association”!
Anxiously remarks
That there must be peril
’Mong so many sparks:
Roguish-looking fellow,
Turning to a stranger,
Says it’s his opinion
She is out of danger!
Sitting vis-à-vis:
Baby keeps a-squalling,
Woman looks at me;
Asks about the distance,
Says it’s tiresome talking,
Noises of the cars
Are so very shocking!
Of the precious casket,
Knowing eggs are eggs,
Tightly holds her basket;
Feeling that a smash,
If it came, would surely
Send her eggs to pot
Rather prematurely!
Rattling over ridges,
Shooting under arches,
Rumbling over bridges,
Whizzing through the mountains,
Buzzing o’er the vale,—
Bless me! this is pleasant,
Riding on the Rail!